View the green buds, recall the wandering fhoots,
Smell my gay flowerets, tafte my flavour'd fruits;
Raife the curl'd vine, refresh the spicy beds,
And joy for every grace my garden fheds.
The Saviour here, and here the church arife,
And am I thus refpected, thus she cries!
I mount for heaven, transported on the winds,
My flying chariot's drawn by willing minds.
As, rapt with comfort, thus the maid withdrew, The waiting daughters wonder'd where the flew; And O! return, they cry, for thee we burn, O maid of Salem; Salem's felf return. And what 's in Salem's maid we covet fo? Hear, all ye nations-'tis your blifs below; That glorious vifion, by the patriarch feen, When sky-born beauties march'd the fcented green ;There the met faints and meeting angels came, Two lamps of God, Mahanaim was the name. Again the maid reviews her facred ground; Solemn fhe fits, the damfels fing around.
O, prince's daughter! how, with fhining fhow, Thy golden fhoes prepare thy feet below! How firm thy joints! what temple-work can be, With all its gems and art, preferr'd to thee? In thee, to feed thy lover's faithful race, Still flow the riches of abounding grace; Pure, large, refreshing, as the waters fall From the carv'd navels of the cistern-wall. In thee the lover finds his race divine,
You teem with numbers, they with virtues fhine;
So wheat with lilies, if their heaps unite,
The wheat's unnumber'd, and the lilies white;
Like tender roes, thy breafts appear above,
Two types of innocence, and twins of love.
Like ivory-turrets feems thy neck to rear,
O, facred emblem, upright, firm, and fair!
As Hefhbon-pools, which, with a filver-state,
Diffufe their waters at their city-gate,
For ever fo thy virgin eyes remain,
So clear within, and fo without ferene.
As through fweet fir the royal turret shows,
Whence Lebanon furveys a realm of foes;
So through thy lovely curls appear thy face,
To watch thy foes, and guard thy faithful race.
The richest colours flowery Carmel wears,
Red fillets, crofs'd with purple, braid thy hairs;
Yet, not more strictly thefe thy locks reftrain,
Than thou thy king, with ftrong affection's chain ;
When from his palace he enjoys thy fight,
O love, O beauty, form'd for all delight!
Strait is thy goodly ftature, firm, and high,
As palms afpiring in the brighter fky;
Thy breafts the cluster (if those breasts we view,
As late for beauty, now for profit too).
Woo'd to thine arms, thofe arms that oft extend,
In the kind pofture of a waiting friend;
Each maid of Salem cries, I'll mount the tree,
Hold the broad branches, and depend on thee.
O, more than grapes, thy fruit delights the maids,
Thy pleafing breath excels the citron fhades:
Thy mouth exceeds rich wine, the words that go
From those sweet lips with more refreshment flow;
Their powerful graces flumbering fouls awake,
And caufe the dead, that hear thy voice, to speak..
This anthem fung, the glorious spouse arose,
Yet thus inftructs the daughters ere fhe goes.
If aught, my damfels, in the spouse ye find
Deferving praises, think the lover kind :
To my belov'd these marriage-robes I owe,
I'm his.defire, and he would have it fo..
Scarce fpake the spouse, but fee the lover near!
Her humble temper brought the Prefence here;
Then, rais'd by grace, and strongly warm'd by love,
No fecond languor lets her Lord remove;.
She flies to meet him, zeal supplies the wings,
And thus her hafte to work his will she fings:
Come, my beloved, to the fields repair,
Come, where another spot demands our care;
There in the village we 'll to reft-recline,
Mean as it is, I try to make it thine.
When the first rays their chearing crimson shed.
We'll rife betimes to fee the vineyard spread;
See vines luxuriant-verdur'd leaves difplay,
Supporting tendrils curling all the way.
See young unpurpled grapes in clufters grow,
And smell pomegranate-bloffoms as they blow; :
There will I give my loves, employ my care,
And, as my labours thrive, approve me there :
Scarce have we pafs'd my gate, the fcent we meet,
My covering jafmines now diffuse their sweet ;,
My spicy flowerèts, mingled as they fly,
With doubling odours croud a balmy sky.
Now all the fruits, which crown the feason, view,
These nearer fruits are old, and those are new;
And thefe, and all of every loaded tree,
My love, I gather, and referve for thee.
If then thy spouse's labour please thee well,
Oh! like my brethren, with thy Sister dwell;
No blamelef's maid, whose fond careffes meet
An infant-brother in the public ftreet,
Clings to its lips with lefs referve than I
Would hang on thine, where'er I found thee nigh:
No fhame would make me from thy fide remove,
No danger make me not confefs thy love.
Strait to my mother's houfe, thine Ifrael she
(And thou my monarch wouldft arrive with me);
'Tis there I'd lead thee, where I mean to stay,
Till thou, by her, instruct my soul to pray;
There fhalt thou prove my virtues, drink my wine,
And feel my joy, to find me wholly thine.
Oh! while my foul were fick, through fond defire,
Thine hands should hold me left my life expire;
As round a child the parents' arms are plac'd,
This holds the head, and that enfolds the waist.
So caft thy cares on me, the lover cry'd,
Lean to my bofom, lean, my lovely bride;
And now, ye daughters of the realm of blifs,
Let nothing difcompofe a love like this;
But guard her reft from each approach of ill;
I caus'd her languor, guard her while fhe will.
Here pause the lines, but foon the lines renew, Once more the pair celestial come to view; Ah! feek them once, my ravish'd fancy, more, And then thy fongs of Solomon are o'er : By yon green bank pursue their orb of light, The fun fhines out, but fhines not half fo bright. See Salem's maids, in white, attend the King, They greet the spouses-hark, to what they fing. Who, from the defert, where the wandering clouds High Sinai pierces, comes involv'd with crowds? 'Tis fhe, the spouse! Oh! favour'd o'er the rest! Who walks reclin'd by such a lover's breast.
The fpoufe, rejoicing, heard the kind falute, And thus addrefs'd him-all the reft were mute. Beneath the law, our goodly parent tree, I went, my much-belov'd, in fearch of thee; For thee, like one in pangs of travail, strove; Hence, none may wonder, if I gain thy love. As feals their pictures to the wax impart, So let my picture ftamp thy gentle heart; As fix'd the fignets on our hands remain, So fix me thine, and ne'er to part again; For Love is ftrong as Death, whene'er they ftrike, Alike imperious, vainly check'd alike;
But dread to loofe, love, mix'd with jealous dread! As foon the marble tomb resigns the dead.
Its fatal arrows fiery-pointed fall,
The fire intenfe, and thine the most of all;
To flack the points no chilling floods are found,
Nay, fhould afflictions roll like floods around,
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