Nothing's your Lot, that's more then can be told,
For nothing is more precious then gold.
34. Blanke.
You faine would haue, but what, you cannot tell.
In giuing nothing, Fortune serues you well.
Sir I. D. (pp. 42-46.)
A Hymne in Praise of Musicke.[173]
Praise, pleasure, profite, is that threefold band,
Which ties mens minds more fast then Gordions knots:
Each one some drawes, all three none can withstand,
Of force conioynd, Conquest is hardly got.
Then Musicke may of hearts a Monarch be,
Wherein prayse, pleasure, profite so agree.
Praise-worthy Musicke is, for God it praiseth,
And pleasant, for brute beasts therein delight,
Great profit from it flowes, for why it raiseth
The mind ouerwhelmed with rude passions might:
When against reason passions fond rebell,
Musicke doth that confirme, and those expell.