Shakespeare's Orpheus

I'm rereading (listening to) one of my favorite books, Inkspell, read by Brendan Fraser (listen to an audio sample from the book ... Dustfinger Comes Home (mp3) :). In the part I just listened to, a poem by Shakespeare was read about the poet from Greek mythology, Orpheus ....

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.

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