Idleness Singeth

Come , come, lie down, and thou shalt see
None like to me to entertain
Thy bones and thee oppressed with pain
Come, come and ease thee in my lap,
And if it please thee, take a nap;
A nap that shall delight thee so
That fancies all will thee forego.
By musing still, what canst thou find
But wants of will and restless mind?
A mind that mars and mangles all,
And breedeth jars to work thy fall;
Come, gentle Wit, I thee require,
And thou shalt hit thy chief desire,
Thy chief desire, thy hoped pray,
First ease thee here, and then away!
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