Poem by Michael Drayton

Sonnet 37. Dear, why should You Command Me to My Rest

Dear, why should you command me to my rest
When now the night doth summon all to sleep?
Methinks this time becometh lovers best;
Night was ordain'd, together friends to keep;
How happy are all other living things
Which through the day disjoin by sev'ral flight,
The quiet ev'ning yet together brings,
And each returns unto his love at night.
O thou, that art so courteous else to all,
Why shouldst thou, Night, abuse me only thus,
That ev'ry creature to his kind dost call,
And yet 'tis thou dost only sever us?
    Well could I wish it would be ever day, 
    If when night comes you bid me go away.

1. Sonnet 47. In Pride of Wit
2. Sonnet 23. Love, Banish'd Heav'n
3. Roc
4. Sonnet 14. If He From Heav'n
5. The Trent (NEAR to the silver Trent)

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