<poem> First was the World as one great Cymbal made, Where Jarring Windes to infant Nature plaid. All Musick was a solitary sound, To hollow Rocks and murm'ring Fountains bound.
Jubal first made the wilder Notes agree; And Jubal tun'd Musicks Jubilee: He call'd the Ecchoes from their sullen Cell, And built the Organs City where they dwell.
Each sought a consort in that lovely place; And Virgin Trebles wed the manly Base. From whence the Progeny of numbers new Into harmonious Colonies withdrew.
Some to the Lute, some to the Viol went, And others chose the Cornet eloquent. These practising the Wind, and those the Wire, To sing Mens Triumphs, or in Heavens quire.
Then Musick, the Mosaique of the Air, Did of all these a Solemn noise prepare: With which She gain'd the Empire of the Ear, Including all between the Earth and Sphear.
Victorious Sounds. yet here your Homage do Unto a gentler Conqueror then you; Who though He flies the Musick of his praise, Would with you Heavens Hallelujahs raise.