This made a thousand instruments combine
And all in one great, glorious whole conjoin:
Nor do I boast of outward form alone,
For Harmony has mark’d me as her own;
Has taught my sweetly solemn sounds to flow
In all the pomp and majesty of woe;
Has taught my notes on seraph’s wings to fly,
And raise the ravish’d soul above the sky;
Has made in Heaven’s own that voice rever’d,
And kings to kneel whenever it is heard.