The Works of the Reverend and Learned Isaac Watts, D. D. Containing, besides his Sermons, and Essays on miscellaneous subjects, several additional pieces, Selected from his Manuscripts by the Rev. Dr. Jennings, and the Rev. Dr. Doddridge, in 1753: to which are prefixed, memoirs of the life of the author, compiled by the Rev. George Burder. In six volumes |
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 | The Works of the Reverend and Learned Isaac Watts, D. D. |  |
451
The Fairest and the only Beloved.
I.
Honour to that diviner rayThat first allur'd my eyes away
From ev'ry mortal fair;
All the gay things that held my sight
Seem but the twinkling sparks of night,
And languishing in doubtful light
Die at the morning-star.
II.
Whatever speaks the godhead great,And fit to be ador'd,
Whatever makes the creature sweet,
And worthy of my passion, meet
Harmonious in my Lord.
A thousand graces ever rise
And bloom upon his face;
A thousand arrows from his eyes
Shoot thro' my heart with dear surprise,
And guard around the place.
III.
All nature's art shall never cureThe heav'nly pains I found,
And 'tis beyond all beauty's pow'r
To make another wound:
Earthly beauties grow and fade;
Nature heals the wounds she made,
But charms so much divine
Hold a long empire of the heart;
What heav'n has join'd shall never part,
And Jesus must be mine.
IV.
In vain the envious shades of night,Or flatteries of the day
Would veil his image from my sight,
Or tempt my soul away;
Jesus is all my waking theme,
His lovely form meets ev'ry dream
And knows not to depart:
The passion reigns
Thro' all my veins,
And floating round the crimson stream,
Still finds him at my heart.
V.
Dwell there, for ever dwell, my Love;Here I confine my sense;
Nor dare my wildest wishes rove
Nor stir a thought from thence.
Amidst thy glories and thy grace
Let all my remnant-minutes pass;
Grant, thou everlasting Fair,
Grant my soul a mansion there:
My soul aspires to see thy face
Tho' life should for the vision pay;
So rivers run to meet the sea,
And lose their nature in th'embrace.
VI.
Thou art my Ocean, thou my God;In thee the passions of the mind
With joys and freedom unconsin'd
Exult, and spread their pow'rs abroad,
Not all the glittering things on high
Can make my heav'n, if thou remove;
I shall be tir'd and long to die;
Life is a pain without thy love;
Who could ever bear to be
Curst with immortality
Among the stars, but far from thee?
| The Works of the Reverend and Learned Isaac Watts, D. D. | |