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Lo! Zan hun wear

Thy eyes, as a Dealers Le
Shine the less u zar
Gay like a plexiam fuck geats,
On Gilead & fater neght,
Is thine adorning har. That notes
Thy known depuranent bright.!
2 Thy teeth are like a fuck of theep,
Éven from wathing care;
Each active grace does order keen,
And bring its product come.

3 Thy hips refemble (carier trans
And comely freech, near
Within thy locks the rem

Like "granates a

4 Thy neck is like

Built for a m

Whole pegs &
All fhiette

Thy breats
Do feed Te ne

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Ver. Fair spouse by marriage-ties alone

8

I urge my call on thee;

Come, come with me from Lebanon,
From Lebanon with me:

Look from Amana's top that chills,
Shenir and Hermon high,
From lions dens, and leopards hills,
Where ghaftly dangers ly.

9 My fifter, fpoufe, thou in effect,
With one glance of thine eye;
With one chain of thy ftately neck,
Haft rap'd my heart from me.
10 My fifter dear, how fair's thy love!
How better far than wine!

Thy fav'ry ointment smell above
All eastern spices fine!

II Thy lips drop like the honey-comb;
There milk and honey flow:
Thy garments fmell like Lebanon,
Where aromatics grow.

12 My love's a garden well inclos'd,
Delicious fruits to yield:

A fpring fhut up, and unexpos'd;
A fountain fafely feal'd.

13 Thy plants of grace do parallel
An orchard rich with trees,
And fruits that gratify the fmell,
And form a paradife.

14 Here pomegranates and camphire grow;
Here trees of incenfe bloom :

'Nard, cinamon, myrrh, aloes blow
With gales, a rich perfume.

15 My love's a garden-fountain known,
A living well befide,

Whofe glad'ning streams from Lebanon
Through diftant valleys glide.

[The Church's Words.]

16 Awake, O north-wind; come thou fouth;
Upon my garden blow:

Soon will the breath, Lord, from thy mouth
Make all the spices flow.

Ver. Then, Lord, come fhare the pleasant spice,
Thus by thy Spirit blown :
My garden be thy paradise ;
Its fruits are all thine own.

1

CHAP. V.

A

CHRIST awaketh the Church by his calling. She baving a Taste of his Love, is fick of Love. Defcription of CHRIST by bis Graces.

[Chrift's Words.]

I'M come, my spouse and sister dear;
I'm to my garden come;

I've gather'd up my fpice and myrrh,
And eat my honey-comb:

My feaft of honey, milk, and wine,
With pleasure fhar'd have I:
Come eat and drink, O friends of mine,
Yea, drink abundantly.

[The Church's Words.]

2 I fleep, but yet my heart's awake;
A kindly knock I hear:

3

'Tis my Beloved's voice thus fpake,
Open to me, my dear.

Open, my dove, my undefil'd;

"Love, give not love the flight:
"My head's bedew'd, my locks are fill'd
"With drops of winter-night."

Base floth reply'd, "I'm now undrefs'd;
"How fhall I drefs again?

How fhall I leave this bed of reft,

My new wafh'd feet to ftain ?"

4 My Lord then by the shut-door's hole
Put in his hand of pow'r;

5

Which with lov'd-wounds fo pierc'd my foul,
My bowels melted fore.

When up to ope I did me ftir,

In answer to his knock:

My hands and fingers drop'd fweet myrrh,

On handles of the lock.

Wer. I open'd then to my Belov'd,

6

But he, alas! was gone:

His late love-fuits my mind fo mov'd,
I fainted as undone :-

I fought him whom my foul ador'd,
But him I could not have:

I call'd and cry'd, My Love, my Lord;
But he no anfwer gave.

7 The cruel city watch me found,
And keepers of the wall;

Who did me rudely fmite and wound,
And took away my vail.

8 O Salem's race, of better mind,
To wail my Lord's remove,
I charge you tell, if him you find,
That I am fick of love..

[The Companions Words.]

9 O faireft, what Belov'd is thine?
In what, pray let us know,
Doth he all other loves out-fhine,
That thou doft charge us fo?"

[The Church's Words.]

10. O my Belov'd, could you him fee,
Both white and red appears;
Among ten thousand chieftains he
The fignal standard bears.

I His head's of fineft gold t' attract,
So bright and firm his fway;
His locks are curl'd, and raven-black,
So fresh without decay.

12 His dove-like eyes most bright appear,.
Like these the brooks have wet;
Or milky streams have wafhed clear,
Fit for inspection fet.

13 His cheeks are like a fpicy bed,

Where choice perfumes do meet;
His lily lips drop grace, and fhade
The myrrh that smells fo fweet..

14

Ver. As rings of gold, with beryl fet,
His hands, his works, appear;
His bowels kind, like iv'ry bright,
O'erlaid with fapphires clear.

15 His legs like marble-pillars are,
On golden fockets fet:

His face like Lebanon most fair,
Like cedars most complete.

16 Moft fweet is that blefs'd mouth of his,
Whence grace and truth doth flow;
Yea, he himself moft lovely is,
And altogether fo.

I

O Salem's daughters this is he
Of whom ye fought my mind:
This is the best Belov'd to me;
This si my dearest Friend.

С Н А Р. VI.

The Church profeffeth ber Faith in CHRIST. He fheweth the Graces of the Church, and bis Love towards her.

[The Companions Words.]

F thy Belov'd, O fairest fair,

IF

Be fuch a matchlefs one,

With thee we'd feek him, wift we where;

O tell us where he's gone!

[The Church's Words.]

2 My Lord's down to his garden drefs'd,
The place of his repair,
'Mong spicy beds to feed and feast,
And gather lilies there.`

3 I'm my Belov'd's, and he is mine;
Sweet are his facred courts;

Among the lilies there that fhine
He feeds, and there reforts.

[Chrift's Words.]

4 My love, like Tirzah, fair array'd,
Like Salem gay indeed;

Thou like an hoft, with flags difplay'd,
Doft ftrike thy fes with dread.
+ N n

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