They hold a comely paritie,
Nor orderless molest,
As proud o'ertopping teeth would be
Like prelates o'er the rest.
Thine active zeal, yet mild, doth keep
A just equality;
Like ev'nly rounded flocks of sheep,
New paft the shearer's eye.
Thy purity exceeds their fleece
Wash'd in the crystal flood;
Thy fruits of holiness and peace
Outvie their num'rous brood.
There does not in the flock appear
One fruitless barren womb:
But all by twins their product bear,
And lead them bleeting home.
Verse 3. Thy lips are like a threed of scarlet, and thy
Speech is comely: thy temples are like a piece of
a pomgrenate within thy locks.
I view'd thy beauteous moving lips,
Instructing Salem's race,
And dropping purest nectar † sips,
In fav'ry words of grace.
Thence facred pray'rs and praise proceed,
So grateful unto God;
Thy lips are like a scarlet threed
Dy'd with atoning blood.
These balmy lips, with pleasing voice,
Shrill in devotion's path,
Salute mine ears with fecret joys:
And spread a fragrant breath.
Thy speech, in praise, to my renown;
And pray'r for bliss from me;
In social words, to make me known;
Shews grace with gravity.
+ A pleasant liquor; delightful in taste, colour, and smell; antiently feigned to be drunk by the gods, and that whosoever drank of it should become immortal.
Hence granate-like, thy temples fair,
Vail'd in thy locks appear;
While ruddy blushes deck thy pray'r,
When none but God can hear.
From men thou hid'st thy rosy cheeks,
Which shame for fin doth flush;
Yet, spite of masks, thy mein detects
Thy beauteous holy blush.
Verse 4. Thy neck is like the tower of David, builded
for an armoury, whereon there bang a thousand
bucklers, all fields of mighty men.
Besides thy coral lips and cheeks,
Thy tow'ring iv'ry neck,
Fram'd like a heav'nly structure, speaks
Wisdom its architect.
This neck of precious faith excells.
King David's slately tow'r;
It holds the glorious Head, and dwells
Upon the rock of pow'r.
As that was for an arm'ry built
Of warlike weapons bright,
Where hung a thousand bucklers gilt,
All shields of men of might.
So this most vig'rous faith of thine
More conquest by my names,
My words, and attributes divine,
Than many shields acclaims.
Defensive arms, in ev'ry cafe,
Within this tow'r abound;
With weapons of victorious grace,
And bulwarks built around.
Thy neck of faith affimulates
An arm'ry built upright.
It stands renown'd for valiant feats,
And boldest acts of might.
Faith joining her almighty King,
Safe, spite of fears, can dwell;
And viewing death, without a sting,
Defy the gates of hell.
Verse 5. Thy two breasts are like two young roes that are twins, which feed among the lilies *.
Thy breasts of love resemble roes
Both young delightful twins:
In thee such equal ardour glows,
For God, and 'gainst thy sins.
Thou op'nest frank a twofold breast,
Two test'ments, and two seals;
Which to thy children yield a feast
Of milk for daily meals.
Thine equal breasts delightful feed,
With milk of sweet solace
In just proportion to the need
Of all the babes of grace.
Among my flocks, the lilie-fields,
Where I with pleasure feast,
Thy wholesome conversation yields
Sweet food with open breast.
Verse 6. Until the day break †, and the shadows flee away, I will get me to the mountains of myrrb, and to the bill of frankincense.
I heard thy former warm request,
To haste the shades away;
Or, during night, abide thy guest
Until the break of day.
Thy pray'r still in mind I bear,
To which no longer mute;
As then I bent my lift'ning ears,
So now I grant thy fuit.
In Zion mount my feet shall stay,
And there I'll lodge with thee,
Until the dawn of glory's day
That shades of forrow flee.
There will I smell the savour sweet
Of active grace and prayer;
For Zion is my chosen seat,
I'll rest for ever there.
* Sec Chap. vii. 3.
Accepted offering all mature
My holy hill furround,
Perfum'd with myrrh and incense pure,
That spread their odours round.
No fpice so much delights the smell
As incense smoking there:
Still, therefore, shall my Spirit dwell
Within the house of pray'r.
The mount of incenfe, hill of myrrh,
My grace shall still adorn:
Nor thence will I decamp or stir,
Till glory's nuptial morn;
Till to my royal courts above
My trumpet call thee up
To confummate our endless love,
And drink full pleasure's cup.
Verse 7. Thou art all fair, my love; there is no Spot
My love, thou seem'st a loathsome worm:
Yet fuch thy beauties be,
I fpoke but half thy comely form;
Thour't wholly fair in me.
Whole justify'd, in perfect dress;
Nor justice, nor the law
Can in thy robe of righteoufness
Difcern the smallest flaw.
Yea, sanctify'd in ev'ry part,
Thou'rt perfect in design:
And I judge thee by what thou art
In thy intent and mine.
Fair love, by grace complete in me,
Beyond all beauteous brides;
Each spot that ever fullied thee
My purple vesture hides.
Verse 8. Come * with me from Lebanon, my spouse: with me from Lebanon : look from the top of Amana, from the top of Shenir and Hermon, from the lions dens, from the mountains of the leopards.
* The words here may be read by way of promise, Thou shalt come with me.
Fair confort, did I thee betroth;
And get thy heart and hand?
I urge thee by the marriage-oath
Regard my kind command.
Come, come with me from Lebanon,
This mount of vanity:
Faith's object, things unseen, unknown,
More fuit thy high degree.
Come from this world's bewitching heights;
O new-born foul forget
The pompous fopp'ries, gay delights,
Toys of thy native state.
Are mortal pleasures worth thy stay,
Or dying shades and toys,
When I invite thy heart away
To share immortal joys?
By faith look from Amana's top,
From Shenir, Hermon fair;
Thence over Jordan look with hope,
Where Zion's glories are.
Let me alone poffefs thy heart,
Leave ev'ry lion's den;
From these wild leopard-hills depart,
The place of furious men.
All worldly joys are overweigh'd
With hills of vexing care,
And under gaudy pleasures hide
Some ghaflly dang'rous snare.
Lét blinded moles, in earthen hills,
Their mould'ring store purfue,
And lick the dust that never fills;
Bid thou mole-hills, adieu.
I'll thee to higher bliss exalt,
For ever with the Lord:
Come, come thou must; and come thou shalt,
My love's thy drawing cord.
Verse 9. Thou bass * ravished my heart, my fifter, my Spouse; thou baft ravished my heart with one of thine eyes, with one chain of thy neck.
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