| Care-charming sleep, thou easer of all woes
|
| Brother to death, sweetly thy self dispose
|
| On this afflicted prince, fall like a cloud
|
| In gentle shower, give nothing that is loud
|
| Pass by his troubled senses; |
| sing his pain
|
| Like hollow murmuring wind, or silver rain,
|
| Into this princes gently, oh gently slide,
|
| And kiss him into slumber like a bride.
|
| On this afflicted prince, fall like a cloud
|
| In gentle shower, give nothing that is loud,
|
| Or painful to his slumbers; |
| easy, sweet,
|
| And as a purling stream, thou son of night
|
| Pass by his troubled senses; |
| sing his pain
|
| Like hollow murmuring wind, or silver rain,
|
| Into this princes gently, oh gently slide,
|
| And kiss him into slumber like a bride. |