O God that I were there.
There David standes with harpe in hand,
As maister of the queere,
Tenne thousand times that man were blest
That might this musicke hear.
Our Ladie singes magnificat
With tune surpassinge sweete,
And all the virgins beare their parts
Sitinge aboue her feete.
Te Deum doth Sant Ambrose singe,