The third Song.
The spouse speakes to her mates.
1
See novve all ye that loue the lord
Ye Nymphes, ye Mayds of grace
Whiles that my lord, & king novve seemes
Farre of from me in place
2
And is in midst of troopes of saincts
On highe vvhere he doth dvvell;
Where all doe tend on him in loue,
Where all things sure goes vvell.
3
Yet see his grace doth stoope to me,
I feele him vvith me here,
By power of spright, by gifts of light,
He comes to me most neere.
4
And though I be much ioy to him,
Yet he is all to me;
As bunch of myrrhe tvvixt both my breasts,
So svveete to hart is he
The spouse to her mates.
5
Oh is there ought in the wide world
That smells, that smiles as he
Ah svveete, ah svveete my soule doth feele
His loue a life to me.
6
His loue layd close to my poore hart
To sence giues such a touch.
That for his loue to dye, to dye.
I vvould not thinke it much.
7
Watch then, & vvayte ye maids that mourne
For this my loue vvill come;
And iudge he vvill in truth, & povver
The folke both all, & some.