While I listen to thy Voice, 
Chloris, I feele my life decay,
that pow'rfull noyse cal's 
my fleeting soul away;
O suppress that magick sound, 
which destroyes without a wound!
peace! peace, Chloris, peace, or singing dye,
that together thou and I
to heav'n may go;
for all we know of what the blessed doe above,
is that they sing, and that they love.