Streams from Helicon :: :: University of Virginia Library

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.