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Were wealth of nations offer'd, all would prove.
Too small a danger, or a price for love.
If then with love this world of worth agree,
With soft regard our little fister see;
How far unapt, as yet, like inaids that own
No Breasts at all, or breasts but hardly grown ;.
Her

part of. Proselyte is scarce a part,
Too much a Gentile at her erring heart;
Her day draws nearer ; what have we to do,
Left she be ask'd, and prove unworthy too?
Despair not, spouse, he cries; we 'll find the means,
Hler good beginnings ask the greater pains.
Let her but ftand,, the thrives; a wall too low
Is not rejected for the standing fo;
What falls is only lost, we 'll build her high,
Till the rich palace glitters in the sky.
'The door that's weak (what need we spare the cost ?)
I 'tis a door, we need not think it loft ;
The leaves she brings us, if those leaves be good,
We 'll close in cedar's uncorrupting wool.

Wrapt with the news, the spouse converts her eyes,. And, oh! companions to the maids, she cries, What joys are ours, to hail the nuptial day, Which calls our fiiter !-Hark, I hear her say, Yes, I 'm a wall; lo! The that boasted none, Now boasts of breasts unmeasurably grown; Large towery buildings, where fecurely rests A thousand thousand of my lover's guests ; The vas increase affords his heart delight, And I find favour in his heavenly fight.

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The lover here, to make her rapture lasty.
Thus adds assurance to the promise past.

A spacious vine-yard, in Baal-Hamon vale,
The vintage set, by Solomon, to sale,
His keepers took; and every keeper paid
A thousand purses for the gains he made.
And I 've a vintage too ; his vintage bloeds
A large increase, but my return exceeds.
Let Solomon receive his keeper's pay,
He gains his thousand, their two hundred they ;
Mine is minc own, 'tis in my presence still,
And fall increase the more, the more the will.
My love, my vineyard, oh the future shoots
Which fill my garden-rows with facred fruits !
I saw the listening maids attend thy voice,
And in their listening saw their eyes rejoice;
A due success thy words of comfort met,
Now turn to me-'tis I would hear thee yet.
Say, dove, and spotless, for I muft away,
Say, spouse, and sister, all you wish to say:
He spake; the place was bright with lambent fire,
(But what is briglitness, if the Christ retire ?)
Gold-bordering purple mark’d his road in air,
And kneeling all, the spouse address’d the prayer :

Desire of nations ! if thou must be gone,
Accept our wishes, all compriz'd. in one;,
We wait thine advent! Oh, we long to see
I, and my sister, both as one, in thee.
Then leave thy heaven, and come and dwell below;
Why said I leave ?--'tis heaven where-e'er you go.

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Haste, my belov’d, thy promise haste to crown,
The form thou ’lt honour waits thy coming down ;
Nor let such swiftness in the roes be shown
To save themselves, as thine to save thine own.
Haíte, like the nimbleit harts, that lightly bound
Before the stretches of the swiftest hound;
With reaching feet devour a level way,
Across their backs their branching antlers lay,
In the cool dews their bending body ply,
And brush the fpicy mountains as they fly..

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THUS sung the king-some angel reach a bough
From Eden's tree to crown the wiselt brow.
And now, thou faireft garden ever made,
Broad banks of spices, blossom'd walks of shade,
O Lebanon! where much I love to dwell,
Since I must leave thee, Lebanon, farewell !'

Swift from my soul the fair idea flies,
A wilder fight the changing scene fupplies ;
Wide seas come rolling to my

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page,
And storms stand ready, when I call, to rage.
Then go where Joppa crowns the winding fhore,
The prophet Jonah just arrives before ;
He sees a ship unmooring, soft the gales,
He pays, and enters, and the vessel fails.

Ah, wouldst thou fly thy God? rash man, forbear. What land so distant but thy God is there?

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Weak reason, cease thy voice. They run the deep,
And the tir'd Prophet lays his limbs to Neep.
.Here God (peaks louder, sends a storm to sea,

The clouds remove to give the vengeance way ;
Strong blasts come whistling, by degrees they roar,
And shove big surges tumbling on to shore ;
The vessel bounds, then rolls, and every blaft
Works hard to tear her by the groaning maft;
The fariors, doubling all their thouts and cares,
Furl the white canvas, and cast forth the wares;
Each seek the God their native regions own,
In vain they seek themn, for those Gods were none.
Yet Jonah slept the while, who solely knew,
In all that number, where to find the true.
To whom the pilot. Sleeper, rise and pray,
Our Gods are deaf; may thine do more than they !

But thus they rest, perhaps we waft a foe
To heaven itself, and that 's our cause of woe;
Let's seek by lots, if heaven be pleas'd to tell ;
And what they fought by lots, on Jonah fell :
Then, whence he came, and who, and what, and why
Thus rag'd the tempest, all confus’dly cry;
Eaca press’d'in haste to get his question heard,
When Jonah stops them with a grave regard,

An Hebrew man, you see, who God revere,
He made this world, and makes this world his care;
His the whirld sky, these waves that lift their head,
And his yon land, on which you long to tread.
He charg'd me late, to Nineveh repair,
And to their face denounce his sentence there :

Go,

Go, said the vision, Prophet, preach to all,
Yet forty days, and Nineveh shall fall.
But well I know him gracious to forgive,
And much my zeal abhorr'd the bad should live;
And if they turn, they live ; then what were I
But some false Prophet, when they fail to die?
Or what, I fancies, had the Gentiles too
With Hebrew prophets, and their God, to do?
Drawn by the wilful thoughts, my soil I run,
I fled his presence, and the work 's undone.

The form increales as the Prophet (peaks,
O'er the toft thip a foaming billow breaks ;
She rises pendant on the lifted waves,
And thence descries a thousand watery graves ;
Then, downward rushing, watery mountains hide
Her hulk beneath, in deaths on every side.
O, cry the tailors all, thy fact was ill,
Yet, if a Prophet, speak thy master's will;
What part is ours with thee? .can aught remain
To bring the blessings of a calm again?

Then Jonah: Mine's the death will best atone (And God is pleas’d that I pronounce my own) ; Arise, and cast me forth, the wind will cease, The sea subsiding wear the looks of peace, And you securely steer. For well I see Myself the criminal, the storm for me.

Yet pity moves for one that owns a blame, And awe, resulting from a Prophet's name ; Love pleads, he kindly meant for them to die; Fear pleads againg him, left they power defy:

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