Classic Poem

Come, cheerful day, part of my life, to me;
For while thou view'st me with thy fading light,
Part of my life doth still depart with thee,
And I still onward haste to my last night.
Time's fatal wings do ever forward fly,
So every day we live a day we die.

But oh, ye nights, ordained for barren rest,
How are my days deprived of life in you;
When heavy sleep my soul hath dispossessed
By feignëd death life sweetly to renew!
Part of my life in that you life deny;
So every day we live a day we die.