NPM: Feare no more the heate o' th' Sun

For today, his birthday, here's a song by William Shakespeare found in Cymbeline.

Feare no more the heate o' th' Sun,
     Nor the furious Winters rages,
Thou thy worldly task hast don,
     Home art gon, and tane thy wages.
          Golden Lads, and Girles all must,
          As Chimney-Sweepers come to dust.

Feare no more the frowne o' th' Great,
     Thou art past the Tirants stroake,
Care no more to cloath and eate,
     To thee the Reede is as the Oake:
          The Scepter, Learning, Physicke must,
          All follow this and come to dust.

Feare no more the Lightning flash.
     Nor th' all-dreaded Thunderstone.
Feare not Slander, Censure rash.
     Thou hast finish'd Ioy and mone.
          All Louers young all Louers must,
          Consigne to thee and come to dust.

No Exorcisor harme thee,
     Nor no witch-craft charme thee.
Ghost vnlaid forbeare thee.
     Nothing ill come neere thee.
          Quiet consumation haue,
          And renowned be thy graue.