Milton invokes it as a luxury--
"And ever against eating cares
Lap me in soft Lydian airs;
Married to immortal verse
Such as the meeting soul may pierce,
In notes with many a winding bout
Of linked sweetness long drawn out;
With wanton heed, and giddy cunning,
The melting voice through mazes running;
Untwisting all the chains that tie
The hidden soul of harmony."
Sometimes as a temptation; so Spenser says of Phaedria,
"And she, more sweet than any bird on bough
Would oftentimes amongst them bear a part,
And strive to passe (as she could well enough)
Their native musicke by her skilful art."
Or as an element of pure happiness--
"There is in Souls a sympathy with sounds;
And as the mind is pitched, the ear is pleased
With melting airs or martial, brisk or grave;
Some chord in unison with what we hear
Is touched within us, and the heart replies.
How soft the music of those village bells,
Falling at intervals upon the ear
In cadence sweet, now dying all away,
Now pealing loud again and louder still
Clear and sonorous, as the gale comes on.
Pages:
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262