Divine raptvres or piety in poesie Digested Into a Queint Diversity of sacred fancies. Composed by Tho. Iordan |
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A Meditation on a chime of Bells.
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 | Divine raptvres or piety in poesie |  |
A Meditation on a chime of Bells.
Harke; what harmonious Musicke fils mine eare?What pleasant raptures? yet me thinkes I heare
Each Bell thats rung, to beare a various sound,
Had all one note, how quickely twould confound
The tune; a discord in the bels arise,
And yet they disagreeing, sympathize:
Tis not the greatest makes the sweetest noyse,
No, but the skilfull Ringer still imployes
The small as well as great, tis every bell
Together rung, that makes them sound so well;
Thus tis in Common-weale: if every man
Kept time, and place proportiond to him, than
How sweetly would our musicke sound? twould be
The emblem of an Heavenly harmony,
Where each man would be great, the land enjoyes
No musicke, but a base prepostrous noyse,
Each Bell sounds well: what though the tenor be
The big'st? the treble seemes as sweete to me:
Lets not aspire too high, experience tels
The choisest chimes makes use of petty bels:
But howsoever Lord, least I disgrace
Thy sweet-voic'd chime, make me keepe time, and place.
| Divine raptvres or piety in poesie | |