Orpheus With His Lute_ Orpheus With His Lute
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All his 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; the sun and showers
There had made a lasting spring
Everything 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
Fall asleep or hearing die