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 raine.
Into this prince, gently, oh! gently slide,
And kiss him into slumbers like a bride.

More verses by Beaumont and Fletcher