1 Behold the Rose of Sharon here, The Lily which the vallies bear; Behold the Tree of Life, that gives Refreshing fruit and healing leaves. 2 Amongst the thorns so lilies shine, Amongst wild gourds the noble vine; So in mine eyes my Saviour proves Amidst a thousand meaner loves. 3 Beneath his cooling shade I sat To shield me from the burning heat; Of heavenly fruit he spreads a feast To feed my eyes and please my taste. 4 [Kindly he brought me to the place Where stands the banquet of his grace, He saw me faint, and o'er my head The banner of his love he spread. 5 With living bread and generous wine He cheers this sinking heart of mine; And opening his own heart to me, He shews his thoughts how kind they be.] 6 O never let my Lord depart, Lie down and rest upon my heart; I charge my sins not once to move Nor stir, nor wake, nor grieve my Love. Hymn 1:69. Christ appearing to his church, and seeking her company, Cant. 2. 1-13. 1 The voice of my beloved sounds Over the rocks and rising grounds, O'er hills of guilt, and seas of grief, He leaps, he flies to my relief. 2 Now thro' the veil of flesh I see With eyes of love he looks at me; Now in the gospel's clearest glass He shews the beauties of his face. 3 Gently he draws my heart along Both with his beauties and his tongue; "Rise," saith my Lord, "make haste away; "No mortal joys are worth thy stay. 4 "The Jewish wintery state is gone, "The mists are fled, the spring comes on, "The sacred turtle-dove we hear "Proclaim the new, the joyful year. 5 "Th' immortal vine of heavenly root "Blossoms and buds, and gives her fruit:" Lo, we are come to taste the wine; Our souls rejoice and bless the vine. 6 And when we hear our Jesus say, "Rise up, my love, make haste away!" Our hearts would fain out-fly the wind, And leave all earthly loves behind. Hymn 1:70. Christ inviting, and the church answering the invitation, Cant. 2. 14 16 17. 1 [Hark, the Redeemer from on high Sweetly invites his favourites nigh; From caves of darkness and of doubt, He gently speaks, and calls us out: 2 "My dove, who hidest in the rock, "Thine heart almost with sorrow broke, "Lift up thy face, forget thy fear, "And let thy voice delight mine ear. 3 "Thy voice to me sounds ever sweet; "My graces in thy countenance meet; "Tho' the vain world thy face despise, "'Tis bright and comely in mine eyes." 4 Dear Lord, our thankful heart receives The hope thine invitation gives: 'To thee our joyful lips shall raise The voice of prayer, and of praise.] 5 [I am my Love's, and he is mine; Our hearts, our hopes, our passions join: Nor let a motion, nor a word, Nor thought arise to grieve my Lord. 6 My soul to pastures fair he leads, Amongst the lilies where he feeds; Amongst the saints (whose robes are white, Wash'd in his blood) is his delight. 7 Till the day break, and shadows flee, Till the sweet dawning light I see, Thine eyes to me-ward often turn, Nor let my soul in darkness mourn.