The heaven was a clear overhanging vault of crystal wherein the sun and
moon and each visible star had his true similitude, shine, situation and
motion, and, by what enwrapped art I cannot conceive, these spheres in
their proper orbs observed their circular wheelings and turnings, making
a certain kind of soft angelical murmuring music in their often windings
and going about, which music the philosophers say in the true heaven, by
reason of the grossness of our senses, we are not capable of.