| |
|
Blest pair of
Sirens, pledges of Heaven's joy,
Sphere-born
harmonious sisters, Voice and Verse,
Wed your divine
sounds, and mixed pow'r employ,
Dead things with
inbreathed sense able to pierce;
And to our
high-raised phantasy present
That undisturbed song of
pure concent,
Aye sung before the sapphire-coloured
throne
To Him that sits thereon,
With saintly
shout, and solemn jubilee,
Where the bright Seraphim
in burning row
Their loud uplifted angel-trumpets
blow,
And the Cherubic host in thousand choirs
Touch their immortal harps of golden wires,
With
those just Spirits that wear victorious palms,
Hymns
devout and holy psalms
Singing everlastingly:
Thus
we on earth with undiscording voice
May rightly
answer that melodious noise;
As once we did, till
disproportioned sin
Jarred against nature's chime,
and with harsh din
Broke the fair music that all
creatures made
To their great Lord, whose love their
motion swayed
In perfect diapason, whilst they stood
In first obedience, and their state of good.
O may we
soon again renew that song,
And keep in tune with
Heaven, till God ere long
To His celestial concert us
unite,
To live with Him, and sing in endless morn of
light
|
|
|
