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Streams from Helicon

Or, Poems On Various Subjects. In Three Parts. By Alexander Pennecuik ... The Second Edition. Enter'd in Stationer's Hall
  
  

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SONG OF SONGS
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100

SONG OF SONGS

    Persons Represented, &c.

  • Beloved or Bridegroom, The Son of God.
  • Spouse or Bride, The Church or Believers.
  • Mother, The visible Church.
  • Mother's Children, Professors.
  • Watchmen or Friends, Prophets or Gospel Ministers.
  • Daughters of Jerusalem or Virgins, Church Members.
  • Little Sister, Gentile World.

DIALOGUE I. PROLOGUE.

Bridegroom, Bride.
To Jesus Lord of Lords, and King of Kings,
A Song of Songs inspired Sol'mon sings.

BRIDE.
O Jesus give my Lips a melting Kiss,
'Twill be a pledge of Love, and endless Bless;
The Kisses of thy Lips gives Joy divine,
Thy Love is sweeter to my Taste than Wine.
How sweet a Flavour doth thy Ointments yield,
They're odorif'rous like a balmy Field;

101

Vials full of Odours is thy Name,
Such Virgin Soul dwells on the lovely Theme;
They give a loose to Love, and sing with ardent Flame.
Draw me, O draw me, after thee we'll go;
Swift as on Bethar's Mountains skips the Roe.
Now to his royal Gall'ries I repair,
The King of Love and Glory leads me there;
Our Hearts do burn when to his Courts we move,
With this blest Vision every Pulse beats Love.
We'll sing his Praises with a tunefull Note,
Can such amazing Love be e'er forgot:
The upright Saints have a perpetual Feast,
Christ's Love doth warm the consecrated Breast.
The richest Wine jejune and tastless grows,
Compar'd with Love, which in our Bosom flows.
O Zion's Daughters, swarthy is my Skin,
Dy'd with the ugly Leprosie of Sin;
Yet there's the brightest Figures in my Face,
The Characters of evangelick Grace.
Like Kedar's Tents, the Sun hath scorch'd my Face,
Yet am I glorious with the Rays of Grace.
The costly Arras from a Tyrian Loom,
Which doth adorn the King of Israel's Room,
These Curtains which his downy Bed doth grace,
Hath no such lively Figure as my Face:
Tho Black, let me not be despis'd by you,
I know I'm jested by a scoffing Crew.

102

Not Aliens, but my bosom Friends were those,
Who 'gainst me in sharp Persecution rose;
My Mother's Children were my keenest Foes.
Those blood Relations falsely did agree,
That I the Keeper of the Vineyard be;
I by their impious Hands was drag'd away,
To toil and drudge, and slavishly obey;
Ah! I was foolish, faithful to my Trust,
To manage theirs, I left my own undress'd.
Tell me my Love, tell me my Soul's Delight,
Where rests thy Flock at Noon, where fold at Night;
O my fair Guardian! lead me to the Shade,
Shall I thou loves, like Stranger be misled?

BRIDEGROOM:
If you, O fairest amongst Womenkind,
Have not the Art my little Flock to find;
Follow the Footsteps of the wandring Train,
And let your tender Kids with them remain:
My Pastors shall with wholesome Herbage feed
Your Flocks, and them thro' ev'ry Danger lead.
To Steeds which Pharoah's Chariots swiftly move,
For Strength and Beauty I've compar'd my Love:
Thy Cheeks adorn'd with Jewels my Heart doth hold,
Thy Iv'ry Neck shines bright with Chains of Gold.

BRIDE.
Borders of purest flaming Gold will we
With Studs of Silver offer unto thee.

103

Whilst at his Table sits my Saviour King
Enthron'd in Majesty: The blooming Spring
Decked with all its Tapastries bestows
No such comforting Smells, as from my Spiknard flows.
Bundles of new pluck'd Myrrh most sav'ry are,
But my dear Lord's perfumes excells them far,
Burning with Love I'll fly to his sweet Arms,
And faint beneath the overpowering Charms:
Autumnal smells of fair Engedy's Fields,
Which choicest Camphyre in abundance yields,
Is no such Cordial; no, it cannot be,
As is my dear Beloved unto me.

BRIDEGROOM.
Love can't be Silent, I must own you're Fair,
There's none on Earth who can with you compare,
Behold thou'rt Fair! much of thy Beauty lyes,
In thy meek, modest, lovely Dove-like Eyes.

BRIDE.
O my Beloved's Match was never seen!
Come, and Solace upon this Bed of Green:
Spread o'er my Head a Canopy of Love,
For thou'rt the Grace, yea Glory of the Grove;
Thy presence makes the Shade to look like Kedar,
Its Rafters are of Fir, its Beams are Cedar.


104

DIALOGUE II.

BRIDEGROOM.
I am the Soul refreshing Sharon's Rose,
The Lillie which in Syrian's Valley grows;
As 'mongst a bush of Thorns and prickling Brier,
A spreading pale fac'd Lillie doth appear,
So 'mongst the Daughters looks my Well-belov'd.

BRIDE.
As in a barren Wood, the Apple Tree,
Deck'd with its gaudy Blossoms, so is he
Amongst the Sons of Men; with Joy I chose
Under his lasting Shadow to repose,
And whilst his luscious Fruit did bless my Taste,
I sat with Raptures at the kingly Feast.
At length, conducted by the mighty Jove,
Unto the House of Banqueting we move;
O there his Banner over me was Love.
Stay me with Flaggons, let the Apples prove
Comforting to me for I'm sick of Love:
But his left Hand lyeth underneath my Head,
When willing, tho' unable to bear up,
His right Hand, which the longing Soul doth feed,
Sustains me closs at Consolations Cup.

105

I charge you, O Jerusalem's Daughters, then
If ye would lasting Fellowship maintain;
If my Enjoyments ye would always taste,
O be exceeding tender of your Guest.
I charge you by the Kids and tender Roes,
For who would be so cruel unto those,
As to disturb them of their soft Repose,
You don't presume to interrupt his Ease,
Or wake my sleeping Lord until he please:
To the cœlestial Melody give ear,
For this is my Beloved's Voice I hear.
Behold him skiping on the Mountains high,
Escaping o'er Hills swift as the Eagles fly:
O Saints behold him, by Experience know,
He's lovely as the Hart, or little am'rous Roe.
For tho' my draught of closs Communion's gone,
And I my dead deserted Case bemoan,
Yet from behind the Wall my Lord still looketh on.
Kind are the Blinks he from the Window gives,
He Love Epistles writes, and mine receives;
For tho' his vast Discoveries be remov'd,
He thro' the Lattise tells I'm still belov'd.
He's reconcil'd again, doth sweetly say,
Rise up my Love, my fair one come away;
For lo the Winter of Desertion's past,
Rains of Afflictions are dry'd up at last,
And I return to you with eager haste.
Choice flow'rs of Grace within thy Soul doth spring,
Zion's beautious Birds their chearfull Notes do sing;

106

The charming Voice of the dear Turtle's heard,
And ev'ry rav'nous Bird hath disappear'd.
My Vineyard, my Delight, my Joy, my Care,
(For all the Plants of Grace are nourish'd there)
Looks Fair and Fertile, O I love it well,
The chearing Vines send forth a fragrant Smell;
Each little Shrub the Planters Livry wears,
Loaden with Fruit the thriving Fig appears;
All these invite me, I'll no longer stay,
Rise up my Love, my fair one come away.

BRIDEGROOM.
My Dove, why do'st thou hide thy self from me
And to the Clifts of Rocks for Shelter flie?
Be not discourag'd, for I've heard thy Prayer
Sent from the secret Places of the Stair,
When Fear and Unbelief had tane you there.
Unvail that blushing Face which I do love,
O let me hear thy Voice, 'twill surely move;
I'll pour upon thee soft'ning show'rs of Grace:
Sweet is thy Voice and comely is thy Face.
The little Foxes catch, let them be slain;
For they destroy the Stragglers of the Plain,
O'erturn ill rooted Vines, and these destroy;
And ev'ry tender Grape and Herb annoy:
Catch them, and kill them, whilst they're very young,
If once they ripen unto Age they're stronge,
With them my Vineyard's been oppress'd too long.


107

BRIDE:
Tho' no fresh Gales, no gentle Breezes blow,
No Dew distills, no Streams the Banks o'erflow,
My Unions solid; I'll rejoyce in this,
That my Beloved's mine, and I am his.
Can he be absent long, who loves so well,
It's in his Garden he delights to dwell;
It's there he prunes his Boughs, and sows his Seed,
It's 'mongst the Lillies he delights to Feed.
Until the dawning of the blessful Day,
That sable Train of Shadows fly away,
And Saints, broke through the Cage, aloft shall fly,
And meet and mingle with the Saints on high.
O with thy kind Embraces visit me,
I'm weary to be separate from thee:
Swift as the nimble Hart on Bethar goes,
Swift as on Bethar's Mountains skip the Roes,
So swiftly my Beloved, come to me,
Let me enjoy sweet Fellowship with thee.


108

DIALOGUE III.

Bride, Bridegroom.
BRIDE.
When Nights black Mantle hath the Skies o'erspread
Loves anxious Fears disturb me on my Bed;
The Object of my Love I ever mind,
In vain I seek him whom I cannot find:
Awake my Soul, shake of the Chains of Sleep,
No longer Converse with Corruption keep;
Combat the fiercest Lust, my Lord to please,
O do not dally with a carnal Ease.
I'll rise, and round the City Streets I'll rove,
I'll sally forth to meet the God of Love:
Ev'ry broad Way, and secret Corner trace,
Seek him in ev'ry Ordinance of Grace;
I'll ne'er give o'er till I behold his Face.
I sought, and O its sad to miss him there,
The God of Jacob in the House of Prayer,
But could not find him on my bended knees,
With bleeding Heart I offer Sacrifice.
I sought him in the Fellowship of Saints,
I sought him whilst my Eyes in Tears was drown'd;

109

But lo he's Deaff to all my loud Complaints,
I sought him, but he was not to be found.
At length I'm by the careful Watchmen found,
Who with unwearied Zeal perform the painful round;
To whom I cry, ye Pilots of the blind,
Direct my wand'ring Steps, my Love to find:
O saw ye him, my kind Instructors, tell,
Whom my deserted Soul doth love so well;
Tell me when my Beloved's hid from you,
What Methods do you take, what Course pursue.
I left these Pastors but a little Space,
When I had full Discoveries of his Face;
Fresh Smiles speaks Peace, his gentle Looks do move,
O! I have found him whom my Soul doth love.
With rapt'rous Joy, which none but Saints do know,
I clasp'd him, and I cannot let him go,
Until I bring him home
Unto my Mother's House, the House of God,
To th'inmost Chambers of her bless'd abode;
For I remember'd whilst I suck'd the Comb,
The hungry Sisters of my Native Home,
Who do not taste the vast, the wond'rous Bless,
But faint with Famine in the Wilderness.
I charge you, O Jerusalem's Daughters then,
That you sweet Fellowship with him maintain:
Of my Enjoyments you would always taste,
O be exceeding tender of your Guest.
I charge you by the tender Kids and Roes,
Whose Keepers dont disturb their soft Repose,

110

O let not Sin and a polluted Heart
Awaken my Love, and force him to depart.

BRIDEGROOM.
Who's this with dazling Splender blinds the Eye,
In whose fair Face such Charms, such Love I spy;
Who's this array'd in rich embroider'd Dress,
Come flaming from the stormy Wilderness.
As smoaky Pillars from the Incense rise,
So on the Wings of Love she from the Desart flys,
Perfum'd with Myrrh, smells like the flow'ry Spring,
With odours, and with Incense meets her King:
With Pouders choice, of which the Merchant boasts,
She's richly freighted for Immanual's Coasts.

BRIDE.
O from my borrow'd Beauty turn thine Eyes,
I see a Sun with uncreated Rays;
Behold King Solomon with Glory spread,
Behold him leaning on his Iv'ry Bed;
Where Saints with holy Fellowship are fed.
A Guard of sixty Warriours rails the Place,
Strong valiant Isra'lites, made bold by Grace;
Not naked Sentinels, fam'd Sons of War,
Who from the holy Spot, unholy Souls debar.
Expert in War by long Experience grown,
They fight with Valour for a heavenly Crown:
The slaughtering Sword hangs closely at their Thigh
They nobly fight and conquer th'Enemy:
With Armour cloth'd, still ready for the Fight,
They fear no Foe, nor Terrours through the Night.

111

A Chariots made by great King Solomon,
Of fitest Wood, the Wood of Lebanon:
Such is his matchless Love, O Saints behold,
Its Pillars Silver, and its Bottom Gold:
With purple Coverings adorn'd above,
The midst is pav'd, for Zion's sake, with Love.
O Zion's Daughters, with a cheerful sound
Rush forth; behold King Solomon is crown'd;
That Crown he wears, that Scepter he doth sway,
His Mother gave him on his nuptial Day:
A memorable Day for Joy and Mirth,
When he rejoyc'd in Heart, and blest the Earth.

DIALOGUE IV.

Bridegroom, Bride.
Bridegroom.
Behold, my Love, behold my Soul's Delight,
Thou'rt fair, thou'rt fair, I'm ravish'd with thy Sight!
Thy modest Eyes vail'd with thy Looks, do shew
[illeg.] chast like Doves, and like the Turtle true.

112

As pleasant 'tis from neighbouring Vales to view,
The Flocks of browsing Goats on Gilead's Brow,
Drink Nature's Cup, and sip the Morning's Dew:
So pleasant 'tis my Love, for to behold
Thy shining Hair, like Rays of burning Gold;
This Ornament thy Puritie discovers,
Kindles Desire, and gains thee many Lovers.
When the lewd World thy Hair and Teeth do view,
They'll praise thy Beauty, fall in Love with you:
They will believe thy Entertainment good,
When such white Teeth do chaw the heav'nly Food.
Thy Teeth a comely Parity do show,
None start too high, nor any shrink too low:
No proud o'ertoping Tooth thy Peace molest,
Even are they rank'd, none Prelates o'er the rest.
Thy Teeth doth represent ------
The new fleec'd Sheep disburdened of their Wool,
That's neatly shorn and wash'd in Heshbon's Pool:
In all the Flock no unprolifick Womb,
Which Twins bring forth, and bleeting lead them Home:
Thy amiable Lips with Charms do move,
When thou unfolds the Mysteries of Love;
Thy Mouth breaths Blessings, from thy Lips proceed
(Thy coral Lips fine as the Scarlet Threed)
Streams of pure Nectar, hungry Souls to feed.
Within thy Locks, like Pom'granates appears
Thy Temples, which a beauteous Lustre wears,
As David's Tower strikes Terror from afar;
(Where thousand Bucklers are, and Shields of War)

113

Ev'n so, that strong conspicuous Rock, thy Neck,
Shall thee from all thy Enemies protect.
To thee the Saints with Joy and Pleasure go,
To them thy Breasts like ripen'd Clusters flow;
O'ercome with Joy, they at thy Breasts do ly,
With Fondness suck, but cannot suck them dry.
O! did a sensual World but know their Feast,
They'd long for thee, and wish to be thy Guest;
Caress thy Breasts, and loath their darling Sins:
Thy Breasts are like two tender Roes that's Twins.
From thy warm Breast's refreshing Streams proceed,
They're like the Roes which 'mongst the Lillies feed.
My Spouse, whil'st thou art militant below,
Thy Life will always checker'd be with Woe;
Communion's Tide will ebb, and Storms will blow.
But, O my Spouse! ev'n in the Desart sing,
Your absent, not divorced, from your King:
Until the nuptial Morn strike up its Light,
And scatter all the Shadows of the Night;
Till I have brought thee to the Courts above,
Where we shall consummate our endless Love:
Till I with Sound of Trump, shall call thee up,
To drink for ever at Communion's Cup;
Unto the Mount of Myrrh and Spices fly,
Ev'n to Mount Zion's lofty Hill on high.
To follow me, my spotless Love prepare;
For thou art mine, and altogether fair.
O come my Spouse from Lebanon with me,
If thou the wicked wanton World wouldst flee;
Climb to Amana's Top and Shenir's Hill,
Or Hermon's dewy Head, thence gaze your fill:

114

Let me, and nothing else, possess thy Heart:
From Hills of Leopards, Lions Dens depart:
My Sister, since thou first didst glance at me,
My Heart's been always ravished with thee.
'Twas one half Look of Love from thee I saw,
'Twas one Chain of thy Neck did strongly draw
My Heart to thee: I cannot but approve
Of thee, for thou art fair, and great's thy Love.
How far doth thy pure Love the Wine excell,
No Ointments squeez'd hath such a perfum'd Smell;
Thy burning Love to me is such a Feast,
I Love't beyond the Spices of the East.

My Spouse,

From thy sweet Lips which hungry Souls doth fill,
Perpetual Drops of Honey does distill;
And Canaan's Blessings glide beneath thy Tongue:
Ev'n Milk and Honey to refresh thy young.
Thy perfum'd Garments drooping Souls revives,
And nobler Smells breathes forth than Leb'non gives,
When gentle Zephyres fan the new blown Leaves.
But as bold Hands can never reach a Cup,
From Fountains that are seal'd, or Springs shut up;
Just so, with my fair Spouse,
No Stragglers with her Streams comforted be,
But all her Currents flow with rapid Force to me.
Thy blooming Plants a fruitful Soil declare,
They grow with vigor in a wholesome Air;
My Grace convey'd to thee, makes all thy Plants look fair.

115

They're like an Orchard thicketed with Trees,
Where various Kinds salute th'enamour'd Eyes;
There Camphire, Pom'granates and Aloes grow,
Saffron, Myrrh, Calamus and Aloes flow;
And Incense Trees, and chiefest Spices bloom,
Which fan'd with Gales send forth a rich perfume:
Thy Orchard's Plants all others far excell,
Your Orchard's water'd with Salvations Well.
Thy Gardens full of Fountains, never dry;
Which doth thy Plants with vital Strength supply;
Thro' it the Streams of living Waters go,
It doth from Leb'non spring, thy Banks o'erflow.

BRIDE.
Awake, O North Wind, O thou South Wind blow
Cool Gales upon my Spices, and they'll flow;
I'll my Beloved in his Garden meet,
There we'll Solace, and pleasant Fruit we'll eat.


116

DIALOGUE V.

Bridegroom, Bride, Daughters of Jerusalem.
BRIDEGROOM.
These fervent Wishes darted up by thee,
My Sister, O my Spouse, prevail'd with me;
And lo, to my fair Garden I am come,
I find it Fertile, and the fragrant Flow'rs
My Presence shall refresh with heav'nly Showers.
The Honey-Comb wrought by laborious Bees,
Honey and Wine refined on the Lees;
Wine mingl'd with the Milk; I've eat and drunk of these.
These noble Dainties do my Table grace,
Around the Banquet you my Friends I'll place.
Eat O beloved Friends, and thankful prove;
Lo here's your King, and here's your Feast of Love.
O drink, and on your Sovereign's Kindness think;
O my beloved Friends, it's I that bid you drink.

BRIDE.
Rock'd in the Cradle of tempestuous Cares
I sleept, and Satan sow'd my Field with Tares;

117

I drunk the Opiates of the World's Ease,
And streight, ah me! I'm lull'd a sleep with these:
Yet, when these downy Slumbers shut mine Eyes,
My Heart's awake, I hear the Bridgroom's Cries.
Sweet are the Invitations of my Lord,
“He knocks and cries, my Sister, O my Love,
“Open to me my undefiled Dove.
“Shall I not wake thee with my am'rous Songs,
“Do I not press my Suit, forget my Wrongs:
“Whilst Night doth thy Horrizon overspread,
“Thine Eyes are shut thou'rt streatch'd upon the Bed;
“Ev'n then I woo and Love harrangues do make,
“Repeat my Calls, and no Refusal take.
“I break thro' Midnight Shades and Storms for you,
“My Locks are wet (whilst I my Love pursue)
“With th'evn'ing Drops, my Head with morning Dew.
But my deceitful Heart was strongly bolt with Sin,
I hug'd my Idols, would not let him in.
My flaming Love was turn'd to Embers now,
No Corner of my Heart to him allow.
Impetuous Billows of Corruption rise,
Temptation's Voice doth drown my Saviour's Cries.
I yield to Lusts I formerly abhor'd,
Treach'rously frame Excuses to my Lord:
I've wash'd my Feet, to fit me for my Rest,
My visit Cloths are off, I am undress'd.
My Love was silent then, and spoke no more,
But by a secret Hole his Hand thrust thro' the Door:

118

He by his sovereign undiscovered Ways,
Fresh Gales of Grace to my dead Soul conveys.
He saw the Posture of my Sin-sick Soul,
And fir'd my dead Heart with an Altar Coal.
Quickly I rise, for I can sleep no more,
To introduce my Lover from the Door;
My Hands drop Myrrh, when to my Love I go
Sweet smelling Myrrh my Fingers overflow,
Upon the Handles of the Lock they drop,
When I did open to my Joy and Hope
I open'd wide my Heart to him: But he,
To shew his Anger, had withdrawn from me.
My vile Ungratitude now I bewail,
I faint with Anguish, and my Soul doth fail:
I offer Vows, but he no Vows would have:
Loudly I cry'd, and he no Answer gave:
All Means I try, and try them all in vain,
He frowns and flies, and wont return again.
The Watchmen, who directed me before,
And gave me healing Balsoms for my Sore,
Prove bad Comforters; they increase my Smart,
And smite and wound me to the very Heart.
The Keepers of the Walls no Cure affords;
I'm kill'd and not comforted with their Words;
They tell what I'm unwilling to confess,
Unvail me to expose my Nakedness.
O Daughters of Jerus'lem, if you find
My Dear, my Well-belov'd, bid him be kind:
O tell him that I dwine and pine with Love,
I charge you that my Suit to him you move.


119

DAUGHTERS of JERUSALEM.
O thou the fairest among Womenkind,
Who is this Well-belov'd you long to find?
Doth he so far excell whom we do Love?
Can you in him peculiar Beauties prove?
What is your Well-belov'd you long to see?
Can he surpass all others, who is he?
Why charge you us, this Lover for to find?
How can he be so good, yet so unkind?

Bride.
What do you ask? what Ignorance is this?
Do you enquire what my Beloved is?
He's white and ruddy, fair beyond Belief,
Amongst Ten thousand Beauties he's the Chief,
His Beauties singular, it can't be told,
His Head shines brighter than the purest-Gold;
The Church's Head, whom all with Love behold.
His bushy Locks of Hair, the Church's Net,
Is thick and long, and like the Raven Jet.
His Eyes, which quickly thro' the World roves,
Are pure and gentle, like the Eyes of Doves.
As Doves Eyes wash'd in Streams of Milk do look,
Whil'st they on sunny Bank sit beeking by the Brook,
That's full of sprightly Vigor fitly set,
Sparkling with Fire, and of a lovely Jet:
So look these Eyes of his, these lovely Eyes,
In which a thousand Charms and Beauty lies.

120

As op'ning Flowers look in their vernal Airs;
And Beds of Spice, which gay Enamel wears;
So looks his Cheeks, when he to me appears.
His Lips, like Lillies shaking with the Dew,
Dropt with sweet smelling Myrrh, his Love to shew.
As Gold Rings set with Beryl is his Hands,
Which Wonders works, and all the World commands:
Than Gold Rings set with Beryl far more bright;
When they're display'd, they dazle humane Sight;
Confound his Foes, and teach his Friends to fight.
His Belly, whence the Church doth draw her Aid,
Like Iv'ry bright, with Saphires overlaid.
His Legs, which in the Paths of Truth do go,
Are swift to bless, and to destroy are slow:
Like Marble Pillars socketed with Gold,
They're strong, well shap'd, and beautious to behold.
His stately Steps are in his Temple shown,
Yet not to all; 'tis only to his own.
'Twas there his Goings I was won't to see;
But Sin hath drawn the Vail, 'twixt him and me.
His Countenance like Lebanon is fair,
Excellent like the lofty Cedars there.
O sweet beyond Expression is his Mouth:
He's altogether lovely, full of Truth.
Thus faintly I've describ'd him, whom I love;
A Theme too high for all the Quires above.
This is my Friend, now do you not approve,
O Daughters of Jerusalem, my Love.


121

DIALOGUE. VI.

Daughters of Jerusalem, Bride, Birdegroom.
Daughters of Jerusalem.
O what a Person is your well Belov'd,
'O what can be the Cause why he's remov'd?
Tell us thou fairest amongst Womankind?
We'll go in Quest of him, you long to find.

Bride.
Yes, I can tell you where he doth repair,
Walk in his Garden, and you'll find him there.
It's in that sacred Spot he loves to be;
But, tho' I seek him there, he's hid from me.
Tis 'mongst his Spicy Beds and Flowers he dwells,
And feeds and feasts on their comforting Smells.
Gathers these Lillies, which his Hands hath sown,
Lillies by true Propriety his own.
Yet why should I with anxious Cares repine,
Since I am my Beloved's, he is mine.

122

I am a Flower which in his Garden grows,
He feeds 'mongst Lillies, I am one of those.

Bridegroom.
As Tirzah seated on a rising Ground,
Tirzah for Strength and Beauty so renown'd,
So beautiful art thou with Honour crown'd.
O comely as Jerusalem art thou,
To all who's holy Eyes thy Beauty view.
But terrible to all thine Enemies,
As conquering Armies in their victor Cries.
O turn away thine Eyes my Love from me,
I'm overcome, I'm ravished with thee.
As pleasant 'tis from neighbouring Vales to view,
The Flocks of brousing Goats on Gilead's Brow,
Drink Nature's Cup, and sip the Morning's Dew.
So pleasant 'tis my Love for to behold,
Thy shining Rays of purest burning Gold:
This Ornament thy Purity discovers,
Kindles Desire, and gains thee many Lovers.
When the lewd World thy Hair and Teeth shall view,
They'll praise thy Beauty, fall in Love with you.
They will believe thy Entertainment good,
When such white Teeth do break the heavenly Food:
Thy Teeth a comely Parity doth show,
None start too high, and none do shrink too low:
No proud o'ertoping Tooth thy Peace molest,
Ev'n are they rank'd, none Prelates o'er the rest.

123

Thy Teeth doth represent ------
The new fleec'd Sheep disburthen'd of their Wool,
When neatly shorn, and wash'd in Heshbon's Pool.
In all the Flock no unprolifick Womb,
Which Twins bring forth, and bleating lead them Home.
Vail'd with thy Locks like Pom'granates appear
Thy Temples, which a blushing Beauty wear:
The Court of Solomon is wondrous fair,
There's sixty Queens, and eighty Conc'bines there.
There smiling Virgins without Number throng,
Virgins that's chast and beautiful and young:
These shining Comets turn as black's the Night,
When thou appears, O radiant Lamp of Light.
My Dove, my only One, my Undefil'd,
Thy Mother's only and her darling Child,
O Daughter born of God, I love thee well,
Thy Cath'lick Truths shall Heresie dispell.
The Daughters thou'lt conceive, begot by me,
When they thy Government and Worship see,
Drink thy pure Doctrine, eat thy strengthning Bread,
Will beg my Blessings on thy lofty Head.
Yea ev'n the Queens and Concubines shall view
Thy Splendor, and be forc'd to bless thee too.
Who's this looks forth, and chases Night away.
Bright as these Beams which smiling brings the Day,
Clear as the Moon, free from the Clouds of Night,
Fair as the rising Sun, which brings the Light,
[illeg.] terrible you look (the trembling World's afraid)
As Armies with their Banners all display'd.

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I went the tender creeping Shrubs to view,
And brambly Nuts, which in the Orchard grew,
To see the Valleys and the lowly Plains,
If they were stor'd with Flowers, refresh'd with Rains,
If clustring Vines did flourish in the Field,
What Buds the luscious Pom'granates did yield,
When lo I spy my Bride in these sweet Groves;
She swiftly flies to him, she dearly loves:
Transported to behold my lovely Spouse,
Whom I from all Eternity did chuse,
Unto her Arms my self with haste I throw;
As Chariots of Aminadab do go,
When hastning to the Race, or lashing from the Foe.
Return thou lovely Shulamite, return,
For in strong Fires of Love for thee I burn.

Bride or Shulamite.
O! here's no Landskip to arrest your Sight,
What can you see in the poor Shulamite?
Yes, I have Beauty will attract your Eyes,
Behold I've Troops to conquer Enemies;
Each at his Post defended by his Shield
With giant Strength the weighty Armour wield,
I have two reg'lar Armies in the Field.


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DIALOGUE. VII.

Bridegroom, Bride.
Bridegroom.
O Princes Daughter, noble is thy Birth,
Thou'rt sprung from Heav'n, altho' ally'd to Earth.
How beautiful's thy Feet, my charming Spouse,
Richly adorned with the Gospel Shoes.
Your full of Vigour, and your ever young,
Thy Thighs are nervous, and they're firmly strung.
As Jewels polish'd with the Workman's Art,
So is thy Joints, thy Thighs, thy ev'ry Part.
Thy Children form'd, soon to Perfection grows:
Thy Navel's like the Cup which overflows:
Thy Infants feed on Nourishment divine:
Thy Navel's as a Goblet fill'd with Wine:
Thy Womb's a fertile, not a barren Bed;
Where Babes with proper Nourishment are fed:
When ripe for solid and substantial Meat,
O, then thy Belly's like a Sheaf of Wheat:
O but its comely round that Sheaf to view,
A row of aged Lillies sprung from you.

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Thy Saints are glad when Fellowship begins,
They love thy swelling Breasts, and loath their Sins,
Thy Breasts are like two tender Roes that's Twins.
That strong conspicuous lofty Rock, thy Neck,
Shall thee from all thy Enemies protect.
It's amiable, as it is secure,
A Fort impregnable, an Ivory Tow'r.
Thy Eyes like Heshbon's Pools nigh Bethram's Streams,
Fam'd for its Fish, and for its verdant Gleams,
Clear are these Eyes as running silver Brooks,
Thy Nose like Leb'non's Tow'r, which to Damascus looks;
As Carmal o'er the Hills his lofty Head doth shew,
You look to Heav'n, and smile on all below.
Thy Head is richly deck'd with purple Hair:
O every Part of thee is wondrous fair.
When in our House I meet thee, I must stay,
I'm chain'd with Charms, I cannot go away.
How fair and lovely art thou to my Sight,
I am thy Bridgroom, thou art all Delight:
Thy Stature's like the Palm, and faultless is thy Shape:
Thy Breasts are like the Clusters of the Grape:
I'll to this Palm, which in my Garden grows,
And sit with pleasure on the verdant Boughs.
To me will prove the Fountain of thy Breast,
Like Clusters of the Vine when newly press'd.
Thy Nose such Perfumes as the Apple gives,
When bending low the Sprig forsakes the Leaves.
Thy Pallate, O my Spouse, is quick and good;
Sweet is thy Relish of spiritual Food.
The richest Wine which sparkles in the Bowl,

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Which drunk with Thirst, revives the fainting Soul
And makes the drowzy rise with vigour up,
And talk by Talents o'er the glad'ning Cup,
Is not so pleasant, no it ne'er can be,
As is thy holy Relish unto me.
Thy Soul's Delight is set on Things divine,
For thy Belov'd thou keeps thy richest Wine.

BRIDE.
My Soul's unite to him, I'll joy in this,
That my Beloved's mine, and I am his;
My Pardon's seal'd, his smiling Face I see,
I'm dear to him, his Love is set on me.
Thy Presence, my Beloved, warms my Heart,
O to my Soul draw nigh, let's never part;
Thro' Messech's Fields let us together go,
Let's lodge in Kedar's Villages below.
O lead and feed thy dearly purchass'd Spouse,
Till she is brought unto the upper House:
Unto thy Vineyard quickly let us bound,
For that's thy Spot, thy own peculiar Ground:
To view thy royal Nurs'ry, let us know,
What sapless Trees decay, and which do grow;
If Vines do flourish, and their Grapes appear,
Hast'ning to ripe, the Planter's Heart to chear,
If Pom'granates a lovely Garment wear.
There I'll solace thee in these happy Groves,
Charm thee with Faith, delight thee with my Loves:
Comforting Flavours do my Mandrakes yield,
A Wilderness of Sweets is my enclosed Field:

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The very Entry doth afford Delight,
Where green and mellow Fruit arrest the Sight;
For thee the Gardens dress'd, under this Shade
Let us my dear Beloved make our Bed.

DIALOGUE VIII.

Bride, Bridegroom.
BRIDE.
I long to see these Halcyon-Days to come,
When an incarnate God shall bless a Virgin's Womb.
O Shadows fly away, O Time draw near,
When thou in humane Nature shall appear,
With all our sinless Miseries opprest,
Become a Child and suck the Mother's Breast.
Without Jerus'lem's Wall I'll find my Lord,
For every Place his Presence shall afford;
Then shall I Kiss thee and not be revil'd,
When Gentiles see the Prophecy fulfill'd:
Unto my Mother's House, my Lord I'll bring,
For she'll instruct me how to please my King.
We'll walk in Pomp like those, whom nuptial Rites
Unto the joyful Weding-House invites:
My Bridegroom drink the spiced Wine of Love,
Like Juice of Pom'granates 'twill cheering prove;

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He won't be 'sham'd to own me for his Bride,
He will not for my holy Freedom chide.
His right Hand shall embrace me whilst we feed,
And his left Hand be underneath my Head,
I charge you, O Jerus'lem's Daughters, then
That you a constant Fellowship maintain,
Wait for the dawning of the glorious Morn,
When he the true Messias shall be born.
O see when ye his Presence do enjoy,
That no Offence your lovely Guest annoy;
Do not awake him with Corruption's Noise,
If you'd be fill'd with strong tumultuous Joys.
I charge you then, you don't disturb his Ease;
Force him not to remove before he please.

BRIDEGROOM.
Who's this so strongly bent for heav'nly Bless,
With eager haste springs from the Wilderness;
No rugged Paths she fears, she can't be mov'd,
For she is leaning on her Well-belov'd.
O happy Traveller, from this earthly Ball,
Who leans on him, who cannot let her fall.
Under the shadow of the Apple Tree,
I found a Bride and drew her unto me;
Thy Mother in that Shade conceived you,
And underneath its Boughs I found thee too:
Thy Mother bore thee there, and then was blest,
With the Reward of all her Labours past.


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BRIDE.
My Love let me thy dear Affection feel,
Imprint me on thy Heart, there stamp me as a Seal;
Upon thy Arm let me engraven be,
There fix me as a Seal, love's Signet make thou me.
O let my flame of Love be satisfied,
Loves Floods o'erwhelm me with a raging Tide;
Love's strong as Death, who can withstand its Power,
When jealous like the Grave it doth devour.
I'm, my beloved, jealous of thy stay,
What keeps my Love? What makes the long delay?
Loves Coals burn fiercer than the Coals of Fire,
O vehement's the Flames of Loves Desire:
Ten Thousand Rivers, cannot quench my Rage,
Nay the whole Ocean can't the Flames asswage.
These feed it's burning Lust; it's fiery Womb
The Floods and Rivers and the Seas o'ercome:
When once a Fire he kindles in the Mind,
The Soul no Pleasure in the World can find;
The cordial Drops of Heaven it longs to have,
The World turns Trash, seems rotten like the Grave.
Love won't capitulate with th'earthly Man,
Christ's only fair, and all the World looks wan:
Should Earth give Bribes, Heav'ns Lover to forsake,
An Offer of its choicest Treasures make,
Give all the Substance of the World, 'twould prove
In vain to these inflam'd with heav'nly Love.
Earth's lost its Lustre, he's the dazling Gem;
Presents of Gold they'd scornfully contemn;
They court a Crown a heav'nly Diadem.

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But, O sweet Lover! whilst I pant for thee,
Breath short, and gasp, thy Glory for to see,
Whilst humbly I implore thy Love and Grace,
And fondly court the Shinings of thy Face,
Dare I forget our little Sister's Case.
My Love, we have a little Sister, she,
Invelopt in a Cloud thy Beauty cannot see,
Exert almighty Pow'r, and draw her unto thee.
She hath no Breasts, she's a deformed Vine;
Yet she's thy future Spouse, then make her thine,
Deck her with wedding Robes and make her shine.
O when thy forming Fingers moulds her right,
And she looks glorious in the World's sight,
In Pomp appears, and shines with heav'nly Light.
O what shall we for our dear Sister do,
To bring her nigh and wed her unto you:
When you'll thy long delayed Visit make,
What shall we do for our dear Sister's sake,
That she may of our Privilege partake.
Yes, firmly we're resolv'd upon the thing,
We'll her with solemn Preparation bring,
Upon the Wedding-Day to meet the King.
If she for Strength like brazen Wall appear,
Upon her silver Palaces we'll rear:
If she a Door do prove, thy En'mies to keep out,
She's be enclos'd with Cedar-Boards about.
With Beauty, Strength and Honour she'll command,
And spread her numerous Issue thro' the Land;
Her Greatness the astonish'd World shall see;
In Strength and Grandeur she shall rival me.

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Me, whom the envying World do Happy call,
A Rock impregnable, a Castle Wall.
I am a Wall, my swelling Breasts are Tow'rs,
But Oh, my Love, my Strength and Beauties yours!
From thee the Fountain Head, my Mercies rise;
For I found Grace and Favour in thine Eyes:
Hence I'm thro' all the Universe renound,
Because thou has my Head with Glory crown'd,
And I with Grace and Love and Strength abound.
I'll tell the list'ning World what he's done,
I'll sound the Praises of my Solomon:
For me, King Solomon was at the pains
T'enclose a Vineyard in Balhamon's Plains.
He farm'd it out to Labourers for a Rent,
Ten thousand Pieces was the Equivalent
Each Keeper yearly to the Land-Lord sent.
The Fruit rewarded ev'ry virtuous one;
Enrich'd the Frugal, but it starv'd the Dron:
My Vineyard, which is mine, before me lies;
It's still the darling Object of mine Eyes.
O Solomon, the Rents be paid by me,
A Thousand silver Pieces I'll give thee,
Each Keeper of the Fruit two hundred for their Fee.
O thou who dwellest in the gladsome Grove
Behold the dear Companions of my Love
Listen unto the Musick of thy Tongue,
And never think the blessed Hours too long;
No, they are all in Rapture with thy Song.
When they're made glad, being intertain'd by you,
Make me a Sharer in the Pleasures too;

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With equal Warmth and Gratitude rejoyce,
I'll in strong Numbers sing with rapt'rous Noise,
When I in Consort join, and hear my Lovers Voice.
O my Beloved! fly with Lovers haste!
O! when shall Days and Hours, and Years be past,
And Time, dull tedious Time, no longer last.
Make swift Approaches, let my Bridgroom go
Swiftly, as on the Spicy Hills the Roe:
Swifter than the young nimble Hart can flie
Let thy Appearance unto Judgment be;
I shall be Happy then thro' all Eternitie.