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They hold a comely paritie,

Nor orderless molest,
As proud o'ertopping teeth would be

Like prelates o'er the rest.
Thine active żeal, yet mild, doth keep

A juft equality;
Like ev'nly rounded flocks of sheep,

New past 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. Tby lips are like a breed of scarlet, and tby

Speech is comely: tby temples are like a piece of

a pomgrenate within tby locks. I view'd thy beauteous moving lips,

Instructing Salem's race,
And dropping purest nectar † lips,

In fav'ry words of grace.
Thence sacred 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 secret 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 picasant liquor; delightful in taste, colour, and smell; antiently feigned to be drunk by the gods, and that whosoever drank of it lould become immortal.

+ Aa

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. Tby neck is like the tower of David, builded

for an armoury, wbereon tbere bang a tbousand

bucklers, all fields of migbry men. Besides thy coral lips and cheeks,

Thy tow'ring iv'ry neck,
Fran'd like a heav'nly structure, speaks

Wisdom its architect.
This neck of precious faith excells

King David's flately 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 wordş, and attributes divine,

Than many fhields acclaims. Defensive arms, in ev'ry case,

Within this tow'r abound; With weapons of victorious grace,

And bulwarks built around.
Thy neck of faith aflimulates

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 fting,

Defy the gates' of hell.

Verse 5. Tby 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 testments, and two seals; Which to thy children yield a feast

a Of milk for daily meals. Thine equal breasts delightful feed,

With milk of sweet folace 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



Verse 6. Until the day break ř, 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 list’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 favour sweet

Of active grace and prayer;
For Zion is my chosen seat,
I'll rest for ever there.
• Sec Chap. vii. 3. + Heb. breathe


Accepted off'ring all mature

My.holy hill surround,
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 incense, hill of myrrh,

My grace ihall still adorn:
Nor thence will I decamp or stir,

Till glory's nuptial niorn;
Till to my royal courts above

My trumpet call thee up
To confummate our endless love,

And drink full pleasure's cup.
Verse 7. Tbou art all fair, my love ; there is no spot

in tbre.
My love, thou seem'ít a loathsome worm:

Yet such thy beauties be,
I spoke but lralf 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 righteousness

Difcern the smallest flaw.
Yea, fanctify'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 sullied thee

My purple vesture hides. Verse 8. Come * with me from Lebanon, my spoufe ;

witb me from Lebanon : look from the top of Amana, from the top of Sbenir and Hermon, from ibe lions

dens, from tbe mountains of the leopards. * The words here ciay be read by way of promise, Thou sbalt 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 fùit 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 ltate.
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 possess 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 ghallly dang'rous snare. Let blinded moles, in earthen hills,

Their mould'ring store pursue, And lick the dust that never fills ;

Bid thou mole-bills, 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. Tbou kafs * ravished my beart, my fifter, my

Spouse ; tbou bast ravished my beart with one of
ibine eyes, with one chain of thy neck.
* Or, taken away my


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