Ye that my bright aray defcry,
See, fee, his guarded bed;
Where I in ease and safety ly,
Beneath his garment spread.
Verfe 9. King Solomon made himself a chariot of
the wood of Lebanon. Verfe 10. He made the
pillars thereof of filver, the bottom thereof of gold,
the covering of it of purple; the midft thereof
being paved with love for the dabghters of Jeru-
Salem.
Ye that, amaz'd at my ascent,
Stand gazing to the sky,
Come fee the engine eminent,
By which I mount fo high.
Lo, here! befide the refting-place
And bed to lay me foft,
Are flying chariot-wheels of
To bare my foul aloft.
Our Solomon, the Prince of peace,
The King of Zion fam'd,
For his renown, and my release,
A ftately chariot fram'd,
He who for pleasure made the bed,
For peace who fet the guard.
For folemn pomp and cavalcade,
This glorious engine rear'd.
He, congruous to his old decree,
For thewing forth his praise,
A cov'nant firm, of promise free,
Did like a chariot raife.
None fram'd of Leb'non's finest wood
By wifeft engineers,
Could equal this, fo gay, fo good,
And firm to endless years.
The pillars thereof, for the ease
And fupport of the weak,
Are precious filver promises,
That will nor bow nor break.
Its bottom is a ground-work fure
Of pure and folid gold,
From bankrupt begg'ry to fecure,
From falling through t'uphold.
Its cov'ring fafe from fin to fhroud,
And fure from wrath to hide,
Is purple dye, the fcarlet flood,
From Jefus' wounded fide.
For Salem's race (though fome purblind
Its outfide pomp but move,)
The midft unfeen is pav'd and lin'd
With velvet feats of love.
He who to fhew his kindness fresh
For human brats abroad,
Came riding in a car of flesh,
The high, the humble God;
Now for his bride a chariot fair
Of gofpel-grace provides;
In which he conqu'ring ev'ry where,
And the triumphing rides.
Verse 11. Go forth, O ye daughters of Zion, and bebold king Solomon with the crown wherewith bis mother crowned him in the day of bis efpoufals, and in the day of the gladness of his heart.
King Jefus' royalties each one,
O Zion's daughters fee;
The bed, the guard, the couch, the crown
Prefented to your eye.
Behold my King, you'll ftrange the less
To fee my bright array;
'Tis fit I now appear in drefs,
His coronation-day.
Go forth in heart, from earthly toys,
From felf, that airy thing;
From finful pleafures, dying joys,
And fee the living King.
To him whom mother Zion bore,
The crown does appertain;
His father to his mother fwore,
That Solomon fhould reign.
Behold the King, with wonder deep,
Whofe glory cannot fade,
Jefus through Solomon the type,
The fubftance through the fhade.
Come fee, believe, admire, adore,
Heav'n glad'ning homage pay,
To match his mother's crown he wore
Upon his nuptial day.
The day wherein he bleft the earth,
And won his bride apart,
When the him met with holy mirth,
And he rejoic'd in heart.
The faints, who do his image bear,
Proclaim the high renown
Of Zion's King; who deigns to wear
Their praifes as his crown.
They act the fond maternal part,
In joint applauding bands;
The heav'nly babe, form'd in their heart,
Is crown'd with both their hands.
His wedding and his crowning day
The pompous joys unite;"
To pourtray him the lovely way
Where grace and grandeur meet.
Once bound unto the altar's horns
"A victim for our dues,
His head was crown'd with cruel thorns,
By's mother-church the Jews.
But pleasure now his pains repay,
And pomp that fuits him well,
His Father's crown, with fov'reign fway
O'er heav'n, and earth, and hell.
CHRIST fetteth forth the Graces of the Church.He fheweth his love to her.-The Church prayeth to be made fit for his Presence.
Verse 1. Bebold, thou art fair, my love; bebold, thou art fair; thou baft doves eyes within thy locks: thy bair is as a flock of goats that appear from
Y love, who flighteth gaudy fame,
Doft human praise efchew,
From zeal to magnify my name,
And give to me my due:
Thy name no detriment fuftains
By travail mine to raise;
For, lo! I now return, thy pains,
By crowning thee with praife.
My truth, that can't the falfe decoy
Of flattering lips approve,
Afferts, to animate thy joy,
Thou art my spotless love.
Lo! thou art fair; lo! thou art fair!
Twice fair thou art, I fay;
My righteoufnefs and graces are
Thy double bright array.
Though thou a fpotted leopard,
And black thyfelf do ftile;
Yet, as a mark of my regard,
I count thee free of guile.
When to a dog, a mite, and gnat,-
Thou doft thyfelf compare,
And call thyfelf a hellish brat;
Ev'n then I call thee fair.
Thy trembling faith will scarcely own
My comlinefs on thee;
Behold, behold! twice be it known,
Thou art all fair in me!
I fee the beauties of the dove
Thee decks without difguife;
For there devout affections move,
Like turtles' charming eyes.
So modeft, humble, pure, and chafle,
So faithful to their mate;
On me alone they fix and rest,
And all my rivals hate.
Thy beauteous eyes, vail'd with thy locks,
Shew with fobriety:
And heav'nly beauties fineft ftrokes,
From oftentation free.
Gay, like a comely flock of goats
On Gilead's flately height,
Is thine adorning hair, that notes
Thy gefture fhining bright.
No artful curls, no pamper'd hair,
The pride of mortal clay,
Can parallel the heav'nly air
Of thy well-ordered way.
Ver. 2. Thy teeth are like a flock of sheep that are even fhorn, which came up from the washing; whereof every one bear twins, and none is barren among
The world, ftruck with thy beauty, may
Believe thy pasture good,
Did they thy grinders white furvey
That champ the heav'nly food.
Thy teeth, the bread of life that cull,
And eager eat my flesh,
Are acts of faith, in number full,
In nature fair and fresh.
Thy priests the living bread who break,
And nurse the babes new-born;
When by an equal law they act
Like evenly teeth adorn.
None does his fellow over-grow,
Wry'd from his proper place;
But all, as equal grinders, fhow
Due pains to feed thy race.
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