This glee gained a Catch Club prize medal in 1775.

Lyrics: John Milton

Blest pair of sirens, pledges of Heav'ns joy,
Sphear-born harmonious sisters, voice, and verse,
Wed your divine sounds, and mixt power employ
Dead things With inbreath'd sense able to pierce,
And to our high-rais'd phantasie present,
That undisturbed song of pure content,
Ay sung before the saphire-colour'd throne
To him that sits theron
With saintly shout, and solemn jubily,
Where the bright seraphim in burning row
Their loud up-lifted angel trumpets blow,
And the cherubick host in thousand quires
Touch their immortal harps of golden wires,
With those just spirits that wear victorious palms,
Hymns devout and holy psalms
Singing everlastingly;
That we on earth with undiscording voice
May rightly answer that melodious noise;
As once we did, till disproportion'd sin
Jarr'd against nature's chime, and with harsh din
Broke the fair musick that all creatures made
To their great Lord, whose love their motion sway'd
In perfect diapason, whilst they stood
In first obedience, and their state of good.
O may we soon again renew that song,
And keep in tune with Heav'n, till God ere long
To his celestial consort us unite,
To live with him, and sing in endless morn of light.