Yet armes till that time did he never wield: His steede did chide his foming bitt, Full iolly knight he seemd, and faire did sitt, As one for knightly giusts and fierce encounters fitt. II. And on his brest a bloodie crosse he bore, The deare remembrance of his dying Lord, For whose sweete sake that glorious badge he wore, And dead, as living, ever him ador'd: Upon his shield the like was also scor'd, For soveraine hope, which in his helpe he had. IV. A lovely ladie rode him faire beside, Upon a lowly asse more white then snow; Yet she much whiter; but the same did hide Under a vele, that wimpled was full low; And over all a blacke stole shee did throw, As one that inly mournd; so was she sad, And heavie sate upon her palfrey slow; Seemed in heart some hidden care she had; And by her in a line a milke-white lambe she lad. VIII. And foorth they passe, with pleasure forward led, IX. The laurell, meed of mightie conquerours And poets sage; the firre that weepeth still; The eugh, obedient to the benders will; The birch for shaftes; the sallow for the mill; The carver holme; the maple, seldom inward sound. [The Palace of Morpheus.] XXXIX. He, making speedy way through sperséd ayre, Whiles sad Night over him her mantle black doth spred; XL. Whose double gates he findeth locked fast; And wakeful dogges before them farre doe lye, By them the sprite doth passe in quietly, And unto Morpheus comes, whom drownéd deepe XLI. And, more, to lulle him in his slumber soft, A trickling streame from high rock tumbling downe, Mixt with a murmuring winde, much like the sowne CANTO VI. [The Heroine meets the Sylvan Deities.] IX. The wyld wood-gods, arrivéd in the place, And trembling yet through feare of former hate: In their rude eyes unworthy of so wofull plight. XIII. Their harts she ghesseth by their humble guise, So from the ground she fearlesse doth arise, XIV. And all the way their merry pipes they sound, That all the woods with double echo ring; XVI. The wood-borne people fall before her flat, 1 A support. Sometimes dame Venus selfe he seemes to see; But Venus never had so sober mood: Sometimes Diana he her takes to be; But misseth bow and shaftes, and buskins to her knee. BOOK II. CANTO XII. [The Harmony of Nature.] LXX. Eftsoones they heard a most melodious sound, Was there consorted in one harmonee; Birdes, voices, instruments, windes, waters, all agree. LXXI. The ioyous birdes, shrouded in chearefull shade, RICHARD HOOKER. Richard Hooker, an eminent divine, was born near Exeter, in 1553, and died in 1600. His life was marked by no striking incidents. His chief work on "Ecclesiastical Polity" is a work of great erudition and eloquence. In the words of Hallam, "So stately and graceful is the march of his periods, so various the fall of his musical cadences upon the ear, so rich in images, so condensed in sentences, so grave and noble his diction, so little is there of vulgarity in his racy idiom, of pedantry in his learned phrase, that I know not whether any later writer has more admirably displayed the capacities of our language, or produced passages more worthy of comparison with the splendid monuments of antiquity." CHURCH MUSIC. TOUCHING musical harmony, whether by instrument or by voice, it being but of high and low in sounds a due proportionable disposition, such notwithstanding is the force thereof, and so pleasing effects it hath in that very part of man which is most divine, that some have been thereby induced to think that the soul itself by nature is, or hath in it, harmony; a thing which delighteth all ages, and beseemeth all states; a thing as seasonable in grief as in joy; as decent, being added unto actions of greatest weight and solemnity, as being used when men most sequester themselves from action. The reason hereof is an admirable facility which music hath to express and represent to the mind, more inwardly than any other sensible mean, the very standing, rising and falling, the very steps and inflections every way, the turns and varieties of all passions whereunto the mind is subject; yea, so to imitate them, that, whether it resemble unto us the same state wherein our minds already are, or a clean contrary, we are not more contentedly by the one confirmed, than changed and led away by the other. In harmony, the very image and character even of virtue and vice is perceived, the mind delighted with their resemblances, and brought, by having them often iterated, into a love of the things themselves. For which cause there is nothing more contagious and pestilent than some kinds of harmony; than some, nothing more strong and potent unto good. And that there is such a difference of one kind from another, we need no proof but our own experience, inasmuch as we are at the hearing of some more inclined unto sorrow and heaviness, of some more mollified and softened in mind; one kind apter to stay and settle us, another to move and stir our affections; there is that draweth to a marvellous grave and sober mediocrity; there is also that carrieth, as it were, into ecstasies, filling the mind with a heavenly joy, and for the time in a manner severing it from the body; so that, although we lay altogether aside the consideration of ditty or matter, the very harmony of sounds being framed in due sort, and carried from the ear to the spiritual faculties of our souls, is, by a native puissance and efficacy, greatly available to bring to a perfect temper whatsoever is there troubled; apt as well to quicken the spirits as to allay that which is too eager; sovereign against melancholy and despair; forcible to draw forth tears of devotion, if the mind be such as can yield them; able both to move and to moderate all affections. The prophet David having, therefore, singular knowledge, not in poetry alone, but in music also, judged them both to be things most necessary for the house of God, left behind him to that purpose a number of divinely indited poems, and was further the author of adding unto poetry melody in public prayer; melody, both vocal and instrumental, for the raising up of |