When religion doth with virtue join, it makes a hero like an angel shine.
Illustrious acts high raptures do infuse, And every conqueror creates a muse.
How small a part of time they share, That are so wondrous sweet and fair!
The fear of Hell, or aiming to be blest, Savors too much of private interest. This moved not Moses, nor the zealous Paul, Who for their friends abandoned soul and all.
Give us enough but with a sparing hand.
Music so softens and disarms the mind That not an arrow does resistance find.