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.