"Fair love, 'tis thee I'm fond to wed; "'Tis thee I'm loth to want:

"Come to thy heav'nly mate, and bid
" All earthly loves avaunt.

"Thy company and love to gain
"I am so strongly bent,
" I'll still infist, till I obtain

" Thy full and free consent.

"Haste to mine arms; for, didst thou move
"As I'm to thee inclin'd,
"Thy heart would on the wings of love
"Outfly the hasty wind.

Verse 14. O my dove that art in the clifts of the rock, in the secret places of the stairs, let me fee thy countenance, let me bear thy voice; for sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely.

"My dove that in the lofty rock "Are wont to nestle high,

" And to my wounds, when storms provoke,
" As shelt'ring holes to fly;

"In fecret corners wont to vent
"Thy heart to me alone,
" Kindly to pour thy heavy plaint,
"And make thy humble mone:
"O why dost thou that built so high,
"At every threat'ning shoke,
"So tim'rous now for shelter fly
"To any lower rock?

"Why, frighted from thy lofty nest,
"To lurking holes and clifts
"Dost take, with shame and fear oppreft,
"Such vain and forry shifts ?

"Look up, my dove; nor blush nor fear
"Thy heav'nly mate to face,
"Who wills thee boldly to appear
"Before his throne of grace.
"Lift voice and count'nance both upright,
"With confidence to me;

" And let thy voice mine ears delight,
"Thy countenance mine eye.

" For sweet's thy voice of pray'r and praise, "Which please me more to hear,

"Than ever choice melodious lays "Could charm a mortal ear.

"Thy humbleft mournful notes, my dove,

Excel, in my esteem,

"Their highest strains that artful rove " In orat'ry divine.

Thy countenance is also fair

"And comely in mine eyes;

"Though earthly minds with scornful air

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Thy heav'nly mein despise.

" For, while my righteousness complete
" Is still thy robe renown'd,
"My graces in thy count'nance meet,
"And caft their lustre round.

Verse 15. Take † us the foxes, the little foxes that
Spoil the wines; for our vines have tender grapes.

"But since my bride's a tim'rous dove,

" Soon scarr'd and set astray; "Care must be taken to remove

"The fright'ning beafts of prey. "Of hurtful foes a hellish brood Againft her peace combines;

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"As in a vineyard foxes rude
"Infeft the feeble vines.

"Let all concerned in her and me
"Soon, at our instance, seize
"The foxes great and small they fee
"That spoil the rifing trees.

" Ye ministers of my affairs,

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My vineyard who attend,

" I charge you guard against the snares "That do the vines offend.

"All erring teachers foon descry, "Deceitful workers check;

"All false apostles take and try,

Refute, repel, reject.

† Take, in the original, is in the plural number, take ye.

"No cunning spoilers flightly mark, "No little foxes spare:

" For these no small destruction work,
"No little mischief share.

"A little fox foon spoils and rents
" Small branches to the stump:
"A little leaven soon ferments
" And leavens all the lump.
"Our vines have small and tender grapes :
" And if the strong, the big,
"With much ado the hurt escapes,
"How hardly will the sprig?

" Each foul be also taught to catch
"Small foxes hid in heart;

"Vain thoughts, deceitful lufts, that hatch
"And gender grievous smart.

" Their little rising brats destroy,
"Their small beginnings hush;
"Else they the buds of grace and joy,
"The tender branches crush."

Verse 16. My beloved is mine, and I am bis; be feedeth † among the lilies ‡.

Such were the kindly words he spoke
To give my foul repose;
Such was the order strict he took
With my disturbing foes.
I'll therefore boldly now affert,
While yet he hides his face,
And own his int'reft in my heart,
My int'rest in his grace.
Lo! I am his, and he is mine;
Our titles are involv'd
By mystic union, so divine
As cannot be dissolv'd.

Our mutual int'rest firm abides,

And will endure for ay;

Hence, though behind the shades he hides,

He is not far away.

+ Viz. Himself, or bis people.

+ That is, bis people, or bis ordinances.

Though heav'n the noblest banquet yields,
Among his flow'rs above;
Yet here amidst his lily-fields

He keeps his feasts of love.

'Mongst saints whose robes are lily-white,
By washing in his blood,
To grace the feast is his delight,

His meat, and drink, and food.
With loving care his flocks he feeds
Upon the fatest place,
Among the fairest lily-beds,

The pastures of his grace.
By faith I wait my proper share,
When nought by sense I fee;
And argue from his past'ral care
His loving mind to me.

Ver. 17. * Until the day break †, and the shadows

flee away.

Among the lilies here below
My Lord will feed and stay,
Until eternal day shall blow
Time's shady night away:
Still therefore rays of joy remain,
Tho' dampt with clouds of fear;
Until he cleave the starry plain,
And on the clouds appear.
Did saints of old, when wrapt in night,
Believing, hope to fee
Incarnate Love's substantial light
Make legal shadows flee?
'Tis done; and now the brighter sky
Makes gospel-grace the pawn
That all remaining shades shall die
And fink in glory's dawn.

Her fiery wheels, with speedy flight,
Shall o'er the shades be hurl'd;

And deluges of dawning light

O'erspread the dusky world.

* These words are applicable either to the preceding or following.

+ Heb. Breathe, or blow.

Let there be light, once more he'll fay,
Who first did gild the ball:

Then up shall rise the endless day,
And down the shadows fall.

Darkness the charge, no more to be,
Shall hear, and foon obey;
And clouds of fin and forrow flee
Before the rifing day.

The long dark nights that keep the field,
And domineer'd with might,
Shall then resign their place, and yield
To everlasting light.
Ev'n ordinances sweet shall pass,
Which darkly shew him here;
For then he'll break the looking-glass,
And face to face appear.

Welcome, the great, the glorious store;
Adieu, sweet little pawns:
I'll doubt, and fear, and fin no more,
When glory's morning dawns.

-Turn †, my Beloved, and be thou like a roe, or a young bart upon the mountains of Bether ‡.

Kind Lord, till this bright morn appear
To my eternal blifs;
Till dusky shadows all retire

And work no more distress:
Turn, till this glorious break of day;
O turn to me thy face;
While in the shady vale I stay,
Deny me not thy grace.

While circling woes deprefs my foul
To various darksome urns:

Let circling mercies round me roll,
By various kind returns.
O'er hills of fin, and guilt, and wo,
That place us far apart,
Come marching like the bounding roe,
Or loving youthful hart.

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