Are dunghills deck'd with flow'ry glore,

Which Solomon's outvie?

Sure thine is infinitely more,

Thy Husband decks the sky.

Thy hands could never work the dress,
By grace alone thou 'rt gay:

Grace vents and reigns thro' righteousness,
Thy Husband's bright array.

To spin thy robe no more dost need

Than lilies toil for theirs ;

Out of his bowels ev'ry thread
Thy Husband thine prepares.

SECTION X.

CHRIST THE BELIEVER'S SWEET NOURISHMENT.

THY food, conform to thine array,

Is heav'nly and divine;

On pastures green, where angels play,
Thy Husband feeds thee fine.

Angelic food may make thee fair,
And look with cheerful face;

The bread of life, the double share;
Thy Husband's love and grace.

What can he give or thou desire,
More than his flesh and blood?
Let angels wonder, saints admire,
Thy Husband is thy food.

His flesh the incarnation bears

From whence thy feeding flows; His blood the satisfaction clears Thy Husband both bestows.

Th' incarnate God a sacrifice

To turn the wrathful tide, Is food for faith; that may

suffice

Thy Husband's guilty bride.

This strength'ning food may fit and fence

For work and war to come;

Till thro' the crowd, some moments hence, Thy Husband bring thee home:

Where plenteous feasting will succeed

To scanty feeding here: And joyful at the table-head

Thy Husband fair appear.

The crumbs to banquets will give place,
And drops to rivers new;

While heart and eye will face to face
Thy Husband ever view.

CHAPTER II.

CONTAINING THE MARKS AND CHARACTERS OF THE BELIEVER IN CHRIST; TOGETHER WITH SOME FURTHER PRIVILEGES AND GROUNDS OF COMFORT TO THE SAINT.

SECTION I.

DOUBTING BELIEVERS CALLED TO EXAMINE, BY MARKS DRAWN FROM THEIR LOVE TO HIM AND HIS PRESENCE, THEIR VIEW OF HIS GLORY, AND THEIR BEING EMPTIED OF SELF-RIGHTEOUSNESS, ETC.

Good news! but, says the drooping bride,

Ah! what's all this to me?

Thou doubt'st thy right when shadows hide
Thy Husband's face from thee.

Through sin and guilt thy spirit faints,
And trembling fears thy fate;

But harbor not thy groundless plaints,

Thy Husband's advent wait.

Thou sobb'st, "O were I sure he 's mine,
This would give glad’ning ease;

And say'st, tho' wants and woes combine,
Thy Husband would thee please.

But

up

and down, and seldom clear,

Inclos'd with hellish routs;

Yet yield thou not, nor foster fear:
Thy Husband hates thy doubts.

Thy cries and tears may slighted seem,
And barr'd from present ease;

Yet blame thyself, but never dream
Thy Husband's ill to please.

Thy jealous unbelieving heart

Still droops, and knows not why;

Then prove thyself, to ease thy smart,
Thy Husband bids thee try.

The foll'wing questions put to thee,
As scripture-marks, may tell
And show, whate'er thy failings be,
Thy Husband loves thee well.

MARKS.

ART thou content when he 's away?
Can earth allay thy pants?

If conscience witness, wont it say,
Thy Husband's all thou wants?