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Lyric Poem · Childhood

To Music, to Becalm a Sweet Sick Youth

by Robert Herrick

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.

This poem is in the public domain.

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