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SOLOMON'S SONG. CHAP. V. 15, &c.
  
  
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SOLOMON'S SONG. CHAP. V. 15, &c.

Altered from Sandys.

Who's this, who like the morning shows,
When she her paths with roses strews;
More fair than the replenish'd moon,
More radiant than the sun at noon?
Not armies with their ensigns spread,
So threaten with amazing dread!

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His looks like cedars planted on
The brows of lofty Lebanon:
His tongue the ear with music feeds,
And He in every part exceeds:
Among ten thousand He appears
The chief, and Beauty's ensign bears.
I, my Beloved, am only Thine:
And Thou by just exchange art mine.
Come let us tread the pleasant fields;
Taste we what fruit the country yields;
There, where no frosts our spring destroy,
Shalt Thou alone my love enjoy.
Be I, O Thou my better part,
A seal impress'd upon Thy heart:
Should falling clouds with floods conspire,
Their waters could not quench love's fire;
Nor all in nature's treasury
The freedom of affection buy.
O Thou that in Thy chosen liv'st,
And life-infusing counsel giv'st
To those that in Thy songs rejoice,
To me address Thy cheerful voice.
May I Thy finger's signet prove;
For death is not more strong than love.
Come, my Beloved, O come away!
Love is impatient of delay:
Run like a youthful hart or roe,
On hills where precious spices grow.
Love is impatient of delay:
Come, my Beloved, O come away!