Head of Orpheus by Odilon Redon

Orpheus 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, as sun and showers
There had made a lasting spring.

Everything that heard him play,
Even the billows of the sea,
Hung their head and then lay by.
In sweet music is such art,
Killing care and grief of heart
Fall asleep or hearing, die.

William Shakespeare