John Milton (1608–1674)

BLEST pair of Sirens, pledges of Heav’ns joy,

Sphear-born harmonious Sisters, Voice, and Vers,

Wed your divine sounds, and mixt power employ

Dead things with inbreath’d sense able to pierce,

And to our high-rais’d phantasie present,

That undisturbed Song of pure content,

Ay sung before the saphire-colour’d throne

To him that sits theron

With Saintly shout, and solemn Jubily,

Where the bright Seraphim in burning row

Their loud up-lifted Angel trumpets blow,

And the Cherubick host in thousand quires

Touch their immortal Harps of golden wires,

With those just Spirits that wear victorious Palms,

Hymns devout and holy Psalms

Singing everlastingly;

That we on Earth with undiscording voice

May rightly answer that melodious noise;

As once we did, till disproportion’d sin

Jarr’d against natures chime, and with harsh din

Broke the fair musick that all creatures made

To their great Lord, whose love their motion sway’d

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 Heav’n, till God ere long

To his celestial consort us unite,

To live with him, and sing in endles morn of light.