“Blest pair of Sirens, pledges of Heaven’s joy; Sphere-born harmonious sisters, Voice and Verse; Wed your divine sounds, and mixed power employ Dead things with inbreathed sense able to pierce; And to our high-raised fantasy present That undisturbed song of pure concent, Aye sung before the sapphire-colored 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: That 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.