Runs to and fro, complaining his sweet cares Because those pretious mysteries that dwell In musicks ravisht soule hee dare not tell, But whisper to the world: thus doe they vary Each string his Note, as if they meant to carry Their Masters blest soule (snatcht out at his Eares By a strong Extasy) through all the sphaeres Of Musicks heaven; and seat it there on high In th Empyrum of pure Harmony.
ATTRIBUTION:
Richard Crashaw (1613?1649), British poet. Musics Duel (l. 142150). . .
Seventeenth-Century Verse and Prose, Vols. III. Vol. I: 16001660; Vol. II: 16601700. Helen C. White, Ruth C. Wallerstein, and Ricardo Quintana, eds. (1951, 1952) The Macmillan Company.