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* * * Cease, warring thoughts, and let his brain No more discord entertain, But be smooth and calm again. Ye crystal rivers that are nigh, As your streams are passing by, Teach your murmurs harmony. Ye winds that wait upon the spring, And perfumes to flowers do bring, Let your amorous whispers here Breathe soft music to his ear. Ye warbling nightingales repair From every wood to charm this air, And with the wonders of your breast Each striving to excel the rest. When it is time to wake him, close your parts, And drop down from the trees with broken hearts. James Shirley's other poems:
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