John Fletcher

Care-Charming Sleep

Care-charming Sleep, thou easer of all woes,
  Brother to Death, sweetly thyself dispose
  On this afflicted prince; fall like a cloud
  In gentle showers; 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 prince gently, oh gently slide,
 And kiss him into slumbers like a bride.
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