3 White is his foul, from blemish free,
Red with the blood he fhed for me;
The fairest of ten thousand fairs,
A fun amongst ten thousand stars.
[4 His head the finest gold excels;
There wisdom in perfection dwells,
And glory, like a crown, adorns
Thofe temples once befet with thorns.
5 Compaffions in his heart are found,
Hard by the fignals of his wound:
His facred fide no more shall bear
The cruel fcourge, the piercing spear.]
6 His hands are fairer to behold,
Than di'monds fet in rings of gold ;
Those heav'nly hands that on the tree
Were nail'd, and torn, and bled for me.
7 Though once he bow'd his feeble knees,
Loaded with fins and agonies,

Now on the throne of his command
His legs like marble pillars ftand.]

[8 His eyes are majesty and love,
The eagle temper'd with the dove;
No more fhall trickling forrows roll
Through those dear windows of his foul.]

و

His mouth that pour'd out long complaints,
Now fmiles, and cheers his fainting faints:
His countenance more graceful is

Than Lebanon with all its trees.

1Q All over-glorious is my Lord, Must be belov'd, and yet ador'd;

His worth if all the nations knew,

Sure the whole earth would love him too.

LXXVI. Christ dwells in heaven, but vifits on earth, Song vi. 1, 2, 3, 12..

W

HEN ftrangers stand and hear me tell What beauties in my Saviour dwell; Where he is gone they fain would know, That they may feek and love him too. 2 My best beloved keeps his throne, On hills of light and worlds unknown; But he defcends and fhews his face. In the young gardens of his grace. [3 In vineyards planted by his hand, Where fruitful trees in order ftand, He feeds among the spicy beds, Where lilies fhow their fpotlefs heads. 4 He has engrofs'd my warmest love, No earthly charms my foul can move : I have a manfion in his heart,

Nor death, nor hell, fhall make us part.]

[5 He takes my foul ere I'm aware, And fhows me where his glories are ; No chariot of Amminadib

The heav'nly rapture can defcribe.

6- O may my spirit daily rife

On wings of faith above the skies,
Till death fhall make my laft remove,
To dwell for ever with my love.]

LXXVII. The love of Christ to the church, in his language to her, and provifions for her, Song vii. 5, 6, 9, 12, 13.

NOW in the gall'ries of his grace

Appears the King, and thus he fays:
How fair my faints are in my fight,
My love how pleasant for delight!
2 Kind is thy language, foy'reign Lord,
There's heav'nly grace in ev'ry word;
From that dear mouth a stream divine
Flows fweeter than the choiceft wine.
3 Such wond'rous love awakes the lip
Of faints that were almost afleep,
To speak the praises of thy name,
And makes our cold affections flame.
4 These are the joys he lets us know,
In fields and villages below;
Gives us a relifh of his love,
But keeps his nobleft feaft above.

5 In paradife, within the gates,
An higher entertainment waits;
Fruits new and old laid up in store,

Where we shall feed, but thirft no more.

LXXVIII. The ftrength of Chrift's love, and the foul's jealoufy of her own, Song viii. 5,6,7,13,14.

[WHO is this fair one in distress,

That travels from the wilderness :

And prefs'd with forrows and with fins,
On her beloved Lord fhe leans!

2 This is the spouse of Chrift our God,
Bought with the treasures of his blood;
And her request, and her complaint,
Is but the voice of ev'ry faint.]
3 "O let my name engraven stand,
"Both on thy heart and on thy hand,
"Seal me upon thine arm, and wear
"That pledge of love for ever there.

4 Stronger than death thy love is known, "Which floods of wrath could never drown; "And hell and earth in vain combine, "To quench a fire fo much divine.

5

"But I am jealous of my heart,
"Left it fhould once from thee depart;
"Then let thy name be well imprefs'd,
"As a fair fignet on my breaft.

6" Till thou haft brought me to thy home,
"Where fears and doubts can never come,
"Thy count'nance let me often fee,
"And often thou fhalt hear from me.

7

I

“Come, my beloved, hafte away,
"Cut fhort the hours of thy delay;

Fly like a youthful hart or roe

"Over the hills where fpices grow."

LXXIX. A morning hymn, Pfal. xix. 5, 8. and

lxxiii. 24, 25.

GOD of the morning, at whofe voice

The cheerful fun makes hafte to rife,

And like a giant doth rejoice

To run his journey through the skies.

2 From the fair chambers of the east The circuit of his race begins, And without wearinefs or reft

Round the whole earth he flies and fhines.

3 Oh like the fun may I fulfil

Th' appointed duties of the day,
With ready mind, and active will,
March on, and keep my heav'nly way.

4 But I fhall rove and lofe the race,
If God, my fun, shall disappear,
And leave me in this world's wild maze,
To follow ev'ry wand'ring star.

5 Lord, thy commands are clean and pure,
Enlight'ning our beclouded eyes:
Thy threat'nings juft, thy promife fure,
Thy gospel makes the fimple wife.

6 Give me thy counfel for my guide,
And then receive me to thy blifs;
All my defires and hopes befide,

Are faint and cold, compar'd with this..

LXXX. An evening hymn, Pfal. iv. 8, and iii. 5,

and cxliii. 8.

HUS far the Lord has led me on,
Thus far his pow'r prolongs my days,,

And ev'ry ev'ning fhall make known
Some fresh memorial of his grace..

2 Much of my time has run to waste,
And I perhaps am near my home;
But he forgives my follies paft,
He gives me ftrength for days to come.

6