Sound forth celestial organs

Sound forth celestial organs, let heaven's quite

Ravish the dancing orbs, make them mount higher

With nimble capers, and force Atlas tread

Upon his tip-toes,

Ere his silver head

Shall kiss his golden burden.

Thou, glad Isle,

That swimmst as deep in joys as seas, now smile;

Let not thy weight glories, this full tide

Of bliss, debase thee, but with a just pride

Swell, swell to such a height that thou may'st vie

With heaven itself for stately majesty.

Do not deceive me, eyes; do I not see

In this blest earth heaven's bright epitome,

Circled with pure refined glory?

Here I view a rising sun in this our sphere,

Whose blazing beams, maugre the blackest night

And mists of grief, dares force a joyful light.

The gold in which he flames does well presage

A precious season and a golden age.

Shine forth, ye flaming sparks of

Deity, ye perfect emblems of divinity;

Fix'd in your spheres of glory, shed from thence

The treasures of our lives, your influence:

For if you set, who may not justly fear

The world will be one ocean, one great tear?