46.
'And thou sweet Musicke, Dauncing's onely life,
'The eare's sole happinesse, the ayre's best speach;
'Loadstone of fellowship, charming-rod of strife,
'The soft mind's Paradice, the sicke mind's leach;
'With thine own tong, thou[209] trees and stons canst teach,
'That when the Aire doth dance her finest measure,
'Then art thou borne, the gods and mens sweet pleasure.
47.
'Lastly, where keepe the Winds their reuelry,
'Their violent turnings, and wild whirling hayes,[210]
'But in the Ayre's tralucent[211] gallery?
'Where shee herselfe is turnd a hundreth wayes,
'While with those Maskers wantonly she playes;
'Yet in this misrule, they such rule embrace,
'As two at once encomber not the place.
48.
'If then fire,[212] ayre, wandring and fixed lights
'In euery prouince of the imperiall skie,
'Yeeld perfect formes of dauncing to your sights,
'In vaine I teach the eare, that which the eye
'With certaine view already doth descrie.
'But for your eyes perceiue not all they see,
'In this I will your Senses master bee.
49.
'For loe the Sea[213] that fleets about the Land,
'And like a girdle clips her solide waist,
'Musicke and measure both doth vnderstand;
'For his great chrystall eye is alwayes cast
'Vp to the Moone, and on her fixèd fast;
'And as she daunceth in her pallid spheere,
'So daunceth he about his Center heere.
50.