_The night is come, like to the day; Depart not thou great God away. Let not my sins, black as the night, Eclipse the lustre of thy light. Keep still in my Horizon; for to me The Sun makes not the day, but thee. Thou whose nature cannot sleep, On my temples centry keep; Guard me 'gainst those watchful foes, Whose eyes are open while mine close. Let no dreams my head infest, But such as_ Jacob's _temples blest. While I do rest, my Soul advance; Make my sleep a holy trance. That I may, my rest being wrought, Awake into some holy thought; And with as active vigour run My course, as doth the nimble Sun. Sleep is a death; O make me try, By sleeping, what it is to die; And as gently lay my head On my grave, as now my bed. Howere I rest, great God, let me Awake again at last with thee. And this assur'd, behold I lie Securely, or to awake or die. These are my drowsie days; in vain I do now wake to sleep again: O come that hour, when I shall never Sleep again, but wake for ever._ This is the Dormative I take to bedward; I need no other _Laudanum_ than this to make me sleep; after which, I close mine eyes in security, content to take my leave of the Sun, and sleep unto the resurrection. SECT. 13