? Or john
fletcher.
Orpheus with his
lute made trees
And the mountain
tops that freeze
Bow themselves
when he did sing:
To his music
plants and flowers
Ever sprung; as
sun and showers
There had made a
lasting spring.
Every thing that
heard him play,
Even the billows
of the sea,
Hung their heads
and then lay by.
In sweet music is
such art,
Killing care and
grief of heart
Fall asleep, or
hearing, die.
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thanks