That fin with fober refolution flies,
This gift thy mercy never will despise.
Then in my foul a mystic altar rear,
And fuch a facrifice I 'll offer there.
There fhall it ftand, in vows of virtue bound,
There falling tears fhall wash it all around;
And sharp remorfe, yet fharper edg'd by woe,
Deferv'd and fear'd, inflict the bleeding blow;
There fhall my thoughts to holy breathings fly,
Instead of incenfe, to perfume the sky,

And thence my willing heart afpires above,
Ayictim panting in the flames of love.

AS through the Pfalms, from theme to theme, I

chang'd,

Methinks like Eve in Paradife I rang'd;
And every grace of fong I feem'd to see,
As the gay pride of every season she;
She, gently treading all the walks around,
Admir'd the fpringing beauties of the ground,
The lily, gliftering with the morning dew,
The rofe in red, the violet in blue,

The pink in pale, the bells in purple rows,
And tulips colour'd in a thousand shows :
Then here and there perhaps the pull'd a flower,
To strew with mofs, and paint her leafy bower;
And here and there, like her, I went along,
Chofe a bright ftrain, and bid it deck my song.

But

But now the facred Singer leaves mine eye,
Crown'd as he was, I think he mounts on high
Ere this devotion bore his heavenly Pfalms,
And now himself bears up his harp and palms.
Go, faint triumphant, leave the changing fight,
So fitted out, you fuit the realms of light;
But let thy glorious robe at parting go,
Thofe realms have robes of more effulgent fhow;
It flies, it falls, the fluttering silk I see;
Thy son has caught it, and he fings like thee,
With fuck election of a theme divine,

And fuch fweet grace, as conquers all but thine.`
Hence every writer o'er the fabled streams,
Where frolic fancies fport with idle dreams;
Or round the fight enchanted clouds difpofe,
Whence wanton Cupids fhoot with gilded bows,
A nobler writer, ftrains more brightly wrought,
Themes more exalted, fill my wondering thought:
The parted skies are track'd with flames above,
As love defcends to meet afcending love;
The feafons flourish where the spouses meet,
And earth in gardens spreads beneath their feet;
This fresh-bloom prospect in the bofom throngs,
When Solomon begins his fong of songs,
Bids the wrapt foul to Lebanon repair,
And lays the scene of all his actions there;
Where as he wrote, and from the bower survey'd
The feenting groves, or answering knots he made,
His facred art the fights of nature brings,
Beyond their ufe, to figure heavenly things.

Great

"Great Son of God! whofe gospel pleas'd to throw Round thy rich glory veils of earthly show;

Who made the vineyard oft thy church design,
Who made the marriage-feast a type of thine;
Affift

my verses, which attempt to trace

The fhadow'd beauties of celestial grace,

And with illapfes of feraphic fire

The work which pleas'd thee once, once more infpire.
Look, or Illufion's airy vifions draw,

Or now I walk the gardens which I saw,
Where filver waters feed a flowering spring,
And winds falute it with a balmy wing.
There, on a bank, whofe fhades directly rife,
To fcreen the fun, and not exclude the skies,
There fits the facred church; methinks I view
The spouse's afpect, and her ensigns too.
Her face has features where the Virtues reign,
Her hands the book of facred Love contain,
A light (Truth's emblem) on her bofom shines,
And at her fide the meekeft lamb reclines:
And oft on heavenly lectures in the book,
And oft on heaven itself fhe casts a look,
Sweet, humble, fervent zeal, that works within,
At length burfts forth, and raptures thus begin:
Let Him, that Him my foul adores above,
In close communions breathe his holy love;
For thefe blefs'd words his pleafing lips impart,
Beyond all cordials, chear the fainting heart.
As rich and sweet the precious ointments ftream,
So rich thy graces flow, fo fweet thy name

Diffufes facred joy; 'tis hence we find
Affection rais'd in every virgin mind;

For this we come, the daughters here, and Į,
Still draw we forward, and behold I fly;
I fly through mercy, when my king invites,
To tread his chambers of fincere delights;
There, join'd by mystic union, I rejoice,
Exalt my temper, and enlarge my voice,
And celebrate, thy joys, fupremely more
Than earthly blifs; thus upright hearts adore.
Nor you, ye maids, who breathe of Salem's air,
Nor refufe that I conduct you there;
you

Though clouding darknefs hath eclips'd my face,
Dark as I am, I fhine with beams of grace,
As the black tents, where Ifhmael's line abides,
With glittering trophies dress their inward fides;
Or as thy curtains, Solomon, are seen,
Whofe plaits conceal a golden throne within.
'Twere wrong to judge me by the carnal fight,
And yet my vifage was by nature white ;
But fiery funs, which perfecute the meek,
Found me abroad, and scorch'd my rofy check.
The world, my brethren, they were angry grown,
They made me dress a vineyard not my own,
Among their rites (their vines) I learn'd to dwell,
And in the mean employ my beauty fell;
By frailty loft, I gave my labour o'er,

And my own vineyard grew deform'd the more.

Behold I turn; O fay, my foul's defire,

Where doft thou feed thy flock, and where retire

То

To reft that flock, when noon-tide heats arise?
Shepherd of Ifrael, teach my dubious eyes
To guide me right; for why fhould thine abide
Where wandering fhepherds turn their flocks afide?
So fpake the church, and figh'd: a purple light
Sprung forth, the Godhead food reveal'd to fight,
And heaven and nature smil'd; as white as fnow
His feamless vefture loosely fell below:
Sedate and pleas'd, he nodded; round his head
The pointed glory fhook, and thus he faid:
If thou, the lovelieft of the beauteous kind,
If thou canst want thy fhepherd's walk to find,
Go by the foot-fteps where my flocks have trod,
My faints, obedient to the laws of God;
Go, where their tents my teaching fervants rear,
And feed the kids, thy young believers there.
Should thus my flocks increafe, my fair delight,
I view their numbers, and compare the fight
To Pharaoh's horfes when they take the field,
Beat plains to duft, and make the nations yield.
With rows of gems thy comely cheeks I deck,
And chains of pendant gold o’erflow thy neck,
For fo like gems the riches of my grace,
And fo defcending glory, chears thy face:
Gay bridal robes a flowering filver ftrows,
Bright gold engrailing on the border glows.
He fpake; the fpoufe admiring heard the found,
Then, meekly bending on the facred ground,
She cries, Oh present to my ravish'd breast,
This fweet comiuunion is an inward feast,