Blest pair of Sirens, pledges of Heaven’s joy, Sphere-born harmonious sisters, Voice and Verse, Wed your divine sounds, and mixed power employ, Dead things with inbreathed sense able to pierce; And to our high-raised phantasy present That undisturbed song of pure concent, Aye sung before the sapphire-colored throne To Him that sits thereon, With saintly shout and solemn jubilee.