The church the garden of Christ.

SS 4:12-15; 5:1.

We are a garden walled around,
Chosen and made peculiar ground;
A little spot enclosed by grace
Out of the world's wide wilderness.

Like trees of myrrh and spice we stand,
Planted by God the Father's hand;
And all his springs in Zion flow,
To make the young plantation grow.

Awake, O, heav'nly wind! and come,
Blow on this garden of perfume;
Spirit divine! descend and breathe
A gracious gale on plants beneath.

Make our best spices flow abroad,

The banquet of love.

SS 2:1-4,6,7.

Behold the Rose of Sharon here,
The Lily which the valleys bear;
Behold the Tree of Life, that gives
Refreshing fruit and healing leaves.

Amongst the thorns so lilies shine;
Amongst wild gourds the noble vine;
So in mine eyes my Savior proves,
Amidst a thousand meaner loves.

Beneath his cooling shade I sat,
To shield me from the burning heat;
Of heav'ly fruit he spreads a feast,
To feed mine eyes and please my taste.

[Kindly he brought me to the place

Christ the King at his table.

SS 1:2-5,12,13,17.

Let him embrace my soul, and prove
Mine interest in his heav'nly love;
The voice that tells me, "Thou art mine,"
Exceeds the blessings of the vine.

On thee th' anointing Spirit came,
And spreads the savor of thy name;
That oil of gladness and of grace
Draws virgin souls to meet thy face.

Jesus, allure me by thy charms,
My soul shall fly into thine arms!
Our wand'ring feet thy favors bring
To the fair chambers of the King.

[Wonder and pleasure tune our voice

Original sin.

Rom. 5:12, etc.; Psa. 51:5; Job 14:4.

Backward with humble shame we look
On our original;
How is our nature dashed and broke
In our first father's fall!

To all that's good averse and blind,
But prone to all that's ill
What dreadful darkness veils our mind!
How obstinate our will!

[Conceived in sin, O wretched state!
Before we draw our breath
The first young pulse begins to beat
Iniquity and death.

How strong in our degen'rate blood
The old corruption reigns,

The same; or, The martyrs glorified.

Rev. 7:13ff.

"These glorious minds, how bright they shine!
Whence all their white array?
How came they to the happy seats
Of everlasting day?"

From torturing pains to endless joys
On fiery wheels they rode,
And strangely washed their raiment white
In Jesus' dying blood.

Now they approach a spotless God,
And bow before his throne
Their warbling harps and sacred songs
Adore the Holy One.

The unveiled glories of his face
Amongst his saints reside,

Christ's humiliation, exaltation, and triumph.

Phil. 2:8,9; Mark 15:20,24,29; Col. 2:15.

The mighty frame of glorious grace,
That brightest monument of praise
That e'er the God of love designed,
Employs and fills my lab'ring mind.

Begin, my soul, the heav'nly song,
A burden for an angel's tongue:
When Gabriel sounds these awful things,
He tunes and summons all his stungs.

Proclaim inimitable love:
Jesus, the Lord of worlds above,
Puts off the beams of bright array,
And veils the God in mortal clay!

Christ's intercession.

Lift up your eyes to th' heav'nly seats
Where your Redeemer stays;
Kind Intercessor, there he sits,
And loves, and pleads, and prays.

'Twas well, my soul, he died for thee,
And shed his vital blood;
Appeased stern justice on the tree,
And then arose to God.

Petitions now, and praise may rise,
And saints their off'rings bring;
The Priest, with his own sacrifice,
Presents them to the King.

[Let papists trust what names they please,
Their saints and angels boast;

The enjoyment of Christ; or, Delight in ordinances.

Lord, what a heav'n of saving grace
Shines through the beauties of thy face,
And lights our passions to a flame!
Lord, how we love thy charming name!

When I can say, "My God is mine,"
When I can feel thy glories shine,
I tread the world beneath my feet,
And all that earth calls good or great.

While such a scene of sacred joys
Our raptured eyes and souls employs,
Here we could sit, and gaze away
A long, an everlasting day.

Well, we shall quickly pass the night

Characters of Christ; borrowed from inanimate things in Scripture.

Go, worship at Immanuel's feet,
See in his face what wonders meet!
Earth is too narrow to express
His worth, his glory, or his grace.

[The whole creation can afford
But some faint shadows of my Lord;
Nature, to make his beauties known,
Must mingle colors not her own.]

[Is he compared to wine or bread?
Dear Lord, our souls would thus be fed
That flesh, that dying blood of thine,
Is bread of life, is heav'nly wine.]

[Is he a tree? The world receives

Abraham's blessing on the Gentiles.

Rom. 11:16,17.

Gentiles by nature, we belong
To the wild olive wood;
Grace took us from the barren tree,
And grafts us in the good.

With the same blessings grace endows
The Gentile and the Jew;
If pure and holy be the root,
Such are the branches too.

Then let the children of the saints
Be dedicate to God,
Pour out thy Spirit on them, Lord,
And wash them in thy blood.

Thus to the parents and their seed
Shall thy salvation come,
And num'rous households meet at last