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More fair thou, art, my lovely prey,
More comely in my fight,
Than ever Tirzah once fo gay,
Or Salem once fo bright.
Thine afpect's awful majefty

Does ftrike thy foes with fear;
As armies do when banners fly,
And martial flags appear.

How does thine armour glitt'ring bright
Their frighted fpirits quell!

The weapons of thy warlike might

Defy the gates of hell.

Verfe 5. Turn away thine eyes from me, for they have

Overcome me


Small wonder that thy foes must bow
When faith does keep the field;
For, lo! I am thy captive too,
And kindly forc'd to yield.

Thy charming eyes of faith and love,
That make myself their prize,
Have overcome me; pray remove
And turn away thine eyes.
They pow'rfully my heart detain,
My kindly paffions fill;
Yet no unwilling vict'ry gain,
But win me to thy will.

Thy daring, gallant arms of grace,
Have o'er me fuch a sway:

I'm conquer'd with their kind embrace,
And cannot fay thee nay.

Thy piercing eyes, that ravifh me,
Commands me as they lift:

My Spirit's aiding force in thee
Is pow'r I can't refift.

Cease wrestling Jacob, let me go,
My love, let me alone :
If not, except I blefs thee; lo!
My bleffing thou haft won.

* See more on this fubject, Chap. iii. 4. and iv. 9.

-† Thy bair is as a flock of goats that appear from Gilead. Verfe 6. Thy teeth are as a flock of sheep, which go up from the washing, whereof every one beareth twins, and there is not one barren among them. Verfe 7. As a piece of a pomegranate are thy temples within thy locks.

Thy flothful carriage toward me
At our last interview,
Though I obferv'd with jealoufy,
And thereupon withdrew:

Yet never judge thy change of frame,
My heart from thee could move;
For fill (like folid rocks) the fame
Is my unfhaken love.

Thy praise I founded in thine ears
Ere thou waft fo unkind;
And now indulge no faithlefs fears,
As if I chang'd my mind.
For, to evince the love I bore
Does fill the fame remain,
I now commend thee as before,
And in the former ftrain.

Gay, like a comely flock of goats
On Gilead's ftately height,
Is thine adorning hair, that notes
Thy converfation bright.
No broider'd ornamental hair
That trims up mortal clay,
Can parallel the heav'nly air
Of thy well-order'd way.

Thy teeth the bread of life that eat,

And feed upon my flesh,

Are acts of faith in number great,

In nature fair and fresh.

Thine active zeal, yet mild, does keep
A just equality,

Like ev'nly rounded flocks of fheep

New paft the fhearer's eye.

See these words more largely explained, Chap. iv. 1, 2, 3.

Thy purity exceeds their fleece,
Wafh'd in the crystal flood;
Thy fruits of holiness and peace
Outvie their num'rous brood.
There does not in the flock appear
One barren fruitless womb:
But all my twins their offspring bear,
And bring them bleating home.
Like 'granates halv'd thy temples fair
Within thy locks appear,

While ruddy blufhes deck thy pray'r
When none but God doth hear.
Thou modeft hid't thy rofy cheeks,
When fins with fhame them flush:
Yet, through the mafk, thy mean detects
Thy beauteous holy blush.

Ver. 8, 9. There are threescore queens, and fourscore
concubines, and virgins without number. My dove,
my undefiled, is but one: fhe is the only one of ber
mother; he is the choice one of her that bare ber:
the daughters faw her, and bleffed ber; yea, the
queens and the concubines, and they praifed ber.
Thy fong gave me the chiefeft name
Among ten thousand heirs,
And thee the fairest I proclaim
Among ten thousand fairs.

Queens, concubines, and virgins are
Unnumber'd, whom they call
Bright dazling beauties, charming fair;
But thou excell'ft them all.
Moft holy fouls (of high defcent)
Are beauties moft renown'd:
The righteous is more excellent
Than all his neighbours round.
My fpotlefs dove as one I view ;
Yea, all in one to me;
Her mother-church's darling too,
And choiceft progeny.

The daughters, her profeffing friends,

Beheld her beauty great;

And straight admir'd her in their minds,
And bleft her in the gate.

Yea, queens and damfels more renown'd
Did all to her give place,

And with extolling praifes crown'd
Her comely fhining grace.

Verse 10. Who is she that looketh forth as the morning, fair as the moon, clear as the fun, and terrible as an army with banners?

"Who's this, faid they, fo brightly fprings
"Like to the morning-ray,

"That cleaves night-fhades with filver wings,
"To hafte the golden day?
"Much fairer than the gilded moon
"Her graces fhine in drefs;

And clearer than the fun at noon
"Her fpotlefs righteousness.
"Behold, in love to brats forlorn,
"What wonders. Heav'n performs!
"That does with ftateliness adorn


Defil'd and loathfome worms.

"By armour which her Captain lends, "Until her warfare clofe,

"She's render'd helpful to her friends,

"And hurtful to her foes.

"Yea, while fhe does her rank maintain,

"And caft her airs abroad,

"Her grace is awful toward men,

"And pow'rful toward God."

Verse 11. I went down into the garden of nuts, to fee the fruits of the valley, and to fee whether the vine flourished, and the pomegranates budded.

With friendly mind I hid my face,
Yet went not far away,
Retiring but a little space
My orchard to furvey.

I went but down to fee anew
My garden of sweet nuts,
Within the fhady grove, and view
The pleafant valley-fruits.
To notice round my labour'd plain,
If all was very good;

If tender vines produc'd their grain,
And pomegrantes their bud:
If all the water'd flow'ry plains,
Along the verdant field,

Did fruits, proportion'd to my pains,
Ev'n in my abfence yield:
Into my heart what chearfulness
And pleasure did it bring,
To fee the early buds of grace
And bleffings of the fpring?
I ravish'd faw my beauteous bride
Lament my abfence fore;
Nor could myself in thickets hide

From her a moment more.

Verse 12. Or ever I was aware, my foul † made me like the chariots of Ammi-nadib.

Such had my bride's inviting frame
Ev'n in my abfence been,

No longer could I hide the flame
Of my affections keen.

Ravifh'd, ere (in effect) I knew,
My bowels did me move;
Into her praying arms I flew
On fpeedy wings of love.

Sweet rapt'rous paffion rofe in me,
But moft divine in mode,

As far as rapture can agree,

Or paffion to a God.

Or, fet me on the chariots of my princely willing people.

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