Song from the Persian

O cease, sweet music, let us rest!

Too soon the hateful light is born;

Henceforth let day be counted night,

And midnight called the morn.

O cease, sweet music, let us rest!

A tearful, languid spirit lies,

Like the dim scent in violets,

In beauty's gentle eyes.

There is a sadness in sweet sound

That quickens tears. O music, lest

We weep with thy strange sorrow, cease!

Be still, and let us rest.