Part 24 (2/2)

Charms, that call down the moon from out her sphere, On this sick youth work your enchantments here!

Bind up his senses with your numbers, so As to entrance his pain, or cure his woe.

Fall gently, gently, and a-while him keep Lost in the civil wilderness of sleep: That done, then let him, dispossess'd of pain, Like to a slumbering bride, awake again.

225. TO MUSIC: A SONG

Music, thou queen of heaven, care-charming spell, That strik'st a stillness into h.e.l.l; Thou that tam'st tigers, and fierce storms, that rise, With thy soul-melting lullabies; Fall down, down, down, from those thy chiming spheres To charm our souls, as thou enchant'st our ears.

226. SOFT MUSIC

The mellow touch of music most doth wound The soul, when it doth rather sigh, than sound.

227. TO MUSIC

Begin to charm, and as thou strok'st mine ears With thine enchantment, melt me into tears.

Then let thy active hand scud o'er thy lyre, And make my spirits frantic with the fire; That done, sink down into a silvery strain, And make me smooth as balm and oil again.

228. THE VOICE AND VIOL

Rare is the voice itself: but when we sing To th' lute or viol, then 'tis ravis.h.i.+ng.

229. TO MUSIC, TO BECALM HIS FEVER

Charm me asleep, and melt me so With thy delicious numbers; That being ravish'd, hence I go Away in easy slumbers.

Ease my sick head, And make my bed, Thou Power that canst sever From me this ill;-- And quickly still, Though thou not kill My fever.

Thou sweetly canst convert the same From a consuming fire, Into a gentle-licking flame, And make it thus expire.

Then make me weep My pains asleep, And give me such reposes, That I, poor I, May think, thereby, I live and die 'Mongst roses.

Fall on me like a silent dew, Or like those maiden showers, Which, by the peep of day, do strew A baptism o'er the flowers.

Melt, melt my pains With thy soft strains; That having ease me given, With full delight, I leave this light, And take my flight For Heaven.

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