HYMN 74. (L. M.) The Church the Garden of Christ, Sol. Song iv. 12, 14, 15. and v. 1.
I
We are a garden wall'd around,
Chosen and made peculiar ground;
A little spot inclos'd by grace
Out of the world's wide wilderness.
II
Like trees of myrrh and spice we stand
Planted by God the Father's hand;
And all his springs in Sion flow
To make the young plantation grow.
III
Awake, O heavenly wind, and come,
Blow on this garden of perfume;
Spirit divine, descend and breathe
A gracious gale on plants beneath.
IV
Make our best spices flow abroad
To entertain our Saviour God:
And faith, and love, and joy appear,
And every grace be active here.
V
Let my beloved come, and taste
His pleasant fruits at his own feast:
‘I come, my spouse, I come,’ he cries,
With love and pleasure in his eyes.
VI
Our Lord into his garden comes,
Well pleas'd to smell our poor perfumes,
And calls us to a feast divine,
Sweeter than honey, milk, or wine.
VII
‘Eat of the tree of life, my friends,
‘The blessings that my Father sends;
‘Your taste shall all my dainties prove,
‘And drink abundance of my love.’
VIII
Jesus, we will frequent thy board,
And sing the bounties of our Lord:
But the rich food on which we live
Demands more praise than tongues can give.
