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1 FROM 1 Harmony, from heav’nly Harmony | |
| This universal Frame began; | |
| When Nature underneath a heap | |
| Of jarring Atomes lay, | |
| And cou’d not heave her Head. | 5 |
| The tuneful Voice was heard from high, | |
| Arise, ye more than dead. | |
| Then cold and hot and moist and dry | |
| In order to their Stations leap, | |
| And MUSICK’S pow’r obey. | 10 |
| From Harmony, from heavenly Harmony | |
| This universal Frame began: | |
| From Harmony to Harmony | |
| Through all the Compass of the Notes it ran, | |
| The Diapason closing full in Man. | 15 |
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2 What Passion cannot MUSICK raise and quell? | |
| When Jubal struck the corded Shell, | |
| His listening Brethren stood around, | |
| And, wond’ring, on their Faces fell | |
| To worship that Celestial Sound: | 20 |
| Less than a God they thought there could not dwell | |
| Within the hollow of that Shell, | |
| That spoke so sweetly, and so well. | |
| What Passion cannot MUSICK raise and quell? | |
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3 The TRUMPETS loud Clangor | 25 |
| Excites us to Arms | |
| With shrill Notes of Anger | |
| And mortal Alarms. | |
| The double double double beat | |
| Of the thund’ring DRUM | 30 |
| Cryes, heark the Foes come; | |
| Charge, Charge, ’tis too late to retreat. | |
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4 The soft complaining FLUTE | |
| In dying Notes discovers | |
| The Woes of hopeless Lovers, | 35 |
| Whose Dirge is whisper’d by the warbling LUTE. | |
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5 Sharp VIOLINS proclaim | |
| Their jealous Pangs and Desperation, | |
| Fury, frantick Indignation, | |
| Depth of Pains and Height of Passion, | 40 |
| For the fair, disdainful Dame. | |
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6 But oh! what Art can teach | |
| What human Voice can reach | |
| The sacred ORGANS Praise? | |
| Notes inspiring holy Love, | 45 |
| Notes that wing their heavenly Ways | |
| To mend the Choires above. | |
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7 Orpheus cou’d lead the savage race, | |
| And Trees unrooted left their Place, | |
| Sequacious of the Lyre; | 50 |
| But bright CECILIA rais’d the Wonder high’r: | |
| When to her Organ vocal Breath was given, | |
| An Angel heard, and straight appear’d | |
| Mistaking Earth for Heav’n. | |
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Grand CHORUS. As from the Pow’r of Sacred Lays | 55 |
| The Spheres began to move, | |
| And sung the great Creator’s Praise | |
| To all the bless’d above; | |
| So, when the last and dreadful Hour | |
| This crumbling Pageant shall devour, | 60 |
| The TRUMPET shall be heard on high, | |
| The dead shall live, the living die, | |
| And MUSICK shall untune the Sky. | |
