suppose somebody read to you, without telling you the author, but telling you the date — the early seventeenth century  lines like this ‘but let my due feet never fail to walk the studious cloisters pale and love the high embowered rough with antique pillars and  and storeyed windows richly dyked, casting a dim religious light, there let the pealing organ blow to the full-voiced choir below in service high and anthems clear, as may with sweetness through mine ear dissolve me into ecstasies and bring all heaven before my eyes.