םרשה רש OR SOLOMON'S SONG paraphrased: A PINDARIC POEM.  
Carmina secessum Scribentis, & otia quoerunt:  
Me mare, me venti, me fera jactat hyems.  Ovid. de Trist. Lib. 1. Eleg. 1. 
LONDON, Printed by H. Hills, for Henry Faithorne, and John Kersey, at the Sign of the Rose in St. Paul's Churchyard. 1681.   

םרשה רש OR SOLOMON'S SONG Paraphrased.  

CHAP. I.  
verse 1 THe Song of Songs from Sacred Muses sprang,  
Which Jesse's Grandchild to the People sang.  CHURCH. 
verse 2 With soft Embraces let him clasp me round,  
Whilst glances darted from his eyes  
Outstrip the numerous Army of the Skies,  
And to a larger Audit rise  
Than all the Sand upon the Ocean bound,  
Or Spires of grass on Palaestina's ground:  
Whilst thus about each others necks we twine,  
Our Sacred flames outvie the heat of Wine.  
verse 3 Because of those choice Ointments shed  
With Rosy Odours on thy youthful head,  
(Yet not so fragrant as thy Name)  
Which trickling down with Spikenard meet  
(Spikenard sent up from thy Triumphant feet)  
The Virgins love thee with a purer flame  
Than those which newly from the Altar came.  

verse 4 Let thine ore-powring Beauty draw my heart  
With (more than Adamantine Ties)  
The prosperous glances of thy youthful eyes,  
And then we'll never part.  
Blessed Union Mystical! The King  
Has placed me underneath his Wing.  
Thrice happy Soul so caught,  
And to so fair a Palace brought!  
To him we dance, to him we sing.  
The sprightly Goblet now no more shall move:  
The righteous Kiss, and thus they pledge thy Love.  
verse 5. 6. O turn, thou Fairest, turn-away  
That too too heedful ray;  
Lest my discoloured cheeks offend thy sight;  
(Grown dusky from the Sun's officious light.)  
Alas! by Brother's hatred I was sent  
To labour in another's Tent,  
(Unmindful of mine own) and thus grew old  
Under the Summer's heat and Winter's cold:  
Yet Blackness has its Beauty, and the shade  
Was as a Masque for Lovers made.  
Thus from the Soultrie plain  
Th' Arabian Swain  
Ore-powred by Heat to Kedar creeps,  
And Selomoh beneath his Banner sleeps.   

verse 7 Tell me at last,  
O thou to whom my Soul is bound so fast,  
Where, in the night of miseries oppressed,  
Thou mak'st thy wearied flocks to rest.  
Where thou dost Benjamin and joseph's sheep  
(Beside thy Tents) in ample Pastures keep?  
For why  
Should only I  
From thy Protection and my Safety fly?   CHRIST. 

verse 8 If yet thou knowst not (O thou Fair)  
Whose unpoised glories greater are  
Than all the blooming pride  
Sprung from the Font of Adam's side;  
Haste with thy Staff and Pilgrim's Weed,  
And when from far thou dost espy  
The numerous footsteps of the Passers-by,  
There take thy road, for fear thou stray  
In an ill-trod, uneasy way:  
And when the Shepherd's Tents appear,  
They'll show thee where I feed,  
And when my flocks are near.   

verse 9 Thy splendour, O my Love, exceeds the show  
Of Pharaohs Host before his Overthrow.  
Those Troops which did before Baal-Zephon shine,  
Must veil their lustre when compared to thine:  
verse 10 Whilst jewels, like the blushing flowers in May,  
Adorn thy Cheeks more fresh than they:  
And thy bright Neck stands circled in  
With wreaths of Gold beneath thy tender Chin.  
verse 11 With Gold thy borders shall be crowned,  
And studs of Silver shall embrace thee round.   CHURCH. 
verse 12 When in the midst of his Pavilion placed  
The King takes his repast,  
By all the numerous Armies graced,  
That brood an Oriental light  
From Michael to the meaner Might,  
My Box of Spikenard does its Odour send  
In fragrant moistures, which return at last  
With sweeter breath than they could ever lend.  
Thus Odours are each others grace,  
And Spikenard borrows scent from his perfuming Face.  
verse 13 They are not all those choicer Smells  
Which the rude Indian or Arabian sells:  
verse 14 The Cypress, or those Breathe shed  
'twixt Zephyr and Engeddi's spicy bed,  
Can equalise that passionate delight  
We find betwixt each others breasts all night.  CHRIST. 
verse 15 Behold (my blessed Companion) thou art fair,  
Thine eyes with those of Doves compare.  CHURCH. 
verse 16 But thine far more resplendent are.  
How pleasant art thou seen  
Upon our beds of Green,  
Whose Odours far exceed the sweets of Myrrh!  
verse 17 Our beams are Cedar, and our rafters Fir.   

CHAP. II.  CHRIST. 

verse 1 WOuld you the Rose of Sharon see  
Spreading his Virgin Colours to the Sun  
(When he has almost half his Circuit run)  
Opening his untouched lips to kiss that ray  
By whom he does his leaves display?  
'Tis I am he.  
Or the fair Lily of the lower ground  
(Shoshannah) with more glories crowned  
Than those with which the mighty Kings appear  
In the great Triumphs of the year?  
You have him here.   

verse 2 As the chaste Lily, which from Tempest torn,  
With a beseeming blush renews it pride,  
Tho' compassed round with an unfruitful thorn,  
And all the Forest-Brakes beside;  
Such is my Bride,  
When placed amidst the Virgin Choir:  
So fairly do her eyes appear,  
So charming are her looks, so clear,  
So gay, so pleasing her attire,  
That whosoever comes near  
Must pant in flames, and languish in desire.   CHURCH. 
verse 3 Compare the loaden Appletree  
To those unthrifty Shrubs you see,  
Those withered boughs, which too too long have stood  
The scandal of the Wood,  
Without the product of or Fair, or Good:  
Such, such is he for whom my wounded heart  
Resents a strange and lasting smart  
Which vies with the Physicians Art.  
I crept on (silent as the shades) for fear  
It might offend him if he saw me near:  
And loath I was a while to prove  
Myself Ambassadress of my own love:  
But still his Beauty led me on;  
Till heedless of the paces I had gone,  
I came beneath his blessed shade  
(Hid by a Gourd which kinder Love had made)  
And reached, and plucked, and eat such fruits as never fade.  

verse 4 At length he led me from the sacred place,  
And with a Princely grace  
(Lest I should surfeit with my New-got Fruit)  
He gave me Wine, and taught me to digest:  
He smiled upon my suit,  
And granted my request.   
verse 5 Stay me with Wine, with Apples, Oh! for I  
Am sick at heart, and if you help not, die!  
verse 6 But see where the Physician stands  
And reaches forth his aidful hands:  
The one arm circles round my Bed,  
Whilst t'other helps support the feeble head,  
And Vails of Love are round about me spread.  CHRIST. 
verse 7 I charge you (Zions Daughters fair)  
And you, whose Sires of Salem were,  
Within whose Borders Wars do cease  
(Whilst Jire constitutes a lasting Peace)  
I charge you by the swift-paced Roe  
And by the Hinds which in your Pastures go;  
By all the brisker herds abroad  
Who cross your interrupted Road;  
If my Beloved slumbering lies,  
If softer sleep have locked her tender Eyes,  
You offer not to break her Ease  
Or stir her from her pillow, till she please.  CHURCH. 
verse 8 Forth from the Hills a voice I hear,  
Whose trembling Echo strikes my tender Ear:  
From Mountain's top it reaches to the Plain,  
Beat by the little Hillocks back again.  
verse 9 'Tis my Beloved's voice— How like a Deer  
He skips, when the swift Enemies are near!  
His glories at a distance fade,  
And set, as in a shade:  
He's only seen by halves, as placed  
Beside some Wall which early Time has razed:  
He creeps behind the Reverend Ruins; then  
He shows himself, and so retires again.  
As through a Lattice we behold his Face,  
Or darkly through the glass.  
verse 10 ' Hear how he calls— Arise my Love,  
‛ My Fair, my undefiled One,  
‛ And let's be gone.  
verse 11 ' The horrid Winter's rage is past,  
‛ And all its fury spent at last,  
‛ Whilst Zephyr softly creeps along,  
‛ (Weak in himself, but in his Odours strong)  
‛ The Clouds in dismal blackness cease to fly,  
‛ They're all grown white,  
‛ Emptied and thinned by an ore-pow'ring light:  
‛ Those subtle Cisterns are all dry,  
And slowly wave beneath a lovely sky.  
verse 12 ' The Spring does in her Virgin dress appear;  
‛ And blushing ushers in the Youthful Year.  
‛ Those Embryos which the frost did once entomb,  
‛ And held with icy chains within the womb,  
‛ Now peep out of their clods again,  
‛ Brought forth by a successful rain.  
‛ The Trees rejoice, they clap their hands and sing,  
‛ And yield their buds to the Officious Spring.  
‛ The feathered Choir in Chorus mix their notes,  
‛ And chant aloud with uninstructed throats.  
‛ The loving Turtle (well compared to me)  
‛ Calls out, and woes his Mate from yonder Tree.  
‛ They flourish in their infant Green,  
‛ And every where a New Creation's seen.  
verse 13 ' The Vine puts forth its tender bud,  
‛ And bids defiance to the Winter's flood.  
HE fragrant smell, a glorious show,  
‛ Attend our steps wher'ere we go.  
‛ Arise, my Love, and make no stay,  
‛ My Fairest haste, and come away,  
‛ The Eastern Herald has proclaimed the day.  CHRIST. 
verse 14 O thou who with thy active wings  
Mount'st up on high,  
(Unmindful of these earthly things)  
And hast a consecrated place  
Immured with Rocks, wherein thou hidest thy Face;  
Let me thy Countenance descry:  
Thy Face is Love, thy Voice is Melody.  
verse 15 Take us the cunning Vermin which destroy  
The spreading branch, the Gard'ners' only joy:  
Those little Foxes, those who undermine  
The Daughter Cluster, and the Mother Vine.  
Our Vine has tender branches; O forbear,  
Lest Herod's cruelty should harbour here,  
And Rachel shed an unresented tear.  CHURCH. 
Whilst thou remainest, O thou Fair,  
verse 16. 17. Amidst the Lilies where thy Pastures are,  
(The Lilies once than Snow more white,  
But now scarce pale before so great a light)  
About each others necks we twine,  
Until the wished for day  
Has chased the shades away:  
I'm his, and my Beloved's mine.  
Haste thee from Bether like the nimble Hart:  
Bether which Jordan does from Jury part.   

CHAP. III.  CHURCH. 
verse 1 'TWas dark, the Orbs withdrew their light;  
The Sullen Moon obscured her head;  
A melancholic gloomy night,  
(The most unhappy relict of a day  
In which the nighted Traveller could stray)  
When overcharged with passions on my bed,  
And fraight with fear,  
I sought my Love, but he was fled;  
I called aloud and knocked, but no one near.  
verse 2 Must then (said I) a wretched, helpless, poor,  
Distressed Lover thus give o'er?  
Are all these breathe spent in Vain?  
I'll wander out, and call again;  
Sure he will pity, since he made the pain.  
I'll haste, and bend my pace  
Unto the holy place,  
Whither the Tribes go up to bless  
The Testament of Holiness:  
How know I what may there be done?  
'Twas there the Blessed Virgin found her Son.  
Perhaps we once again may meet  
Amidst some crooked silent Street,  
Whilst thus he wanders up and down  
The by- Maeanders of the Town.  
'Tis but for once to try;  
Or if he is withdrawn, I'll trace  
His footsteps to some wider place,  
Or seek him out if nigh.  
Ah! so I panting did,  
But found him not, for he was hid:  
Hid from the reach of purblind Nature's Eye,  
Which takes no species from the Deity.  

verse 3 Next to the wakeful Guardians of the night  
(The Watchmen of the Sacred Tower  
Armed with his Sword, and guarded with his power)  
I took my humble flight.  
Tell me, O can you tell, (said I)  
When he passed by?  
Can no good Oracle declare  
How he demeans himself, and where.  
But they were all grown dumb:  
Then sure, said I, Messias must be come.  
verse 4 Just thus it was; my fancied bliss  
Proved true; I heard a voice, 'twas his:  
When strait I caught him in my Arms,  
And held him fast; (successful were my Charms)  
Till through the private passages we went,  
And came into my Mother's Tent:  
That Tent in which th' Almighty once did give  
That life to her who gave me life to live.   
verse 5 You Daughters of Jerusalem,  
I charge you by the Roes, the Hinds; by them  
To whom ye frankly yield  
The ample Pastures of your floury field,  
That when my best Beloved slumbering lies,  
Ye cease to chase the shadow from his Eyes.  
Beside his Temples let a Veil be spread;  
And Banners circled round his head.  CHRIST. 
verse 6 What distant object from the fruitless breast  
Of the wild Desert crowns the Plain?  
It flies in Triumphs o'er the fields  
Perfumed with Myrrh, with Frankincense; the best  
Of Odours which the Drugster yields;  
Like some new rising clouds of rain.  
verse 8 See where a Princely Banner stands,  
Held up by threescore Heroes mighty hands,  
Girt with their Swords, and fit for fight,  
Zamzummims, Chieftains of the night,  
Apt to pursue, but not to take a flight.  
verse 9 Thus Selomoh goes bravely on,  
Guarded with beams of Lebanon;  
Beams of those Cedars which so fairly stood  
The daring glories of the Wood;  
But now grown more Majestic by their fall,  
Than when they flourished green and tall.  
verse 10 The Columns formed of Silver stand,  
(Cut out by some Bezaleel's hand)  
On a firm basis of the purest Gold  
Which Ophir boasted of, of old;  
Sheltered beneath a purple Shrine:  
(Purple once common, now Divine)  
And lest defiance should be seen above,  
The Motto underneath was LOVE.  
Love for the fairest Damsels; Love for them  
Who love the Daughters of Jerusalem.  

verse 11 Haste, haste, ye Sacred Choir,  
Ye hopeful darlings of old Zions breast,  
See Selomoh clad in his best attire;  
'Tis a Triumphing day; th' Espousal Feast,  
More Solemn, more observed than all the rest:  
A day in which his aged Matron spread  
Her Arms about his youthful head;  
Blest him with all the blessings from above,  
And gladly did impart  
The largess of a Mother's heart;  
Crowned him with Diadems, and sheltered him with Love.    

CHAP. IU.  CHRIST. 
verse 1 HOw lovely are those eyes, thou Fair,  
Which from the circles of thy hair  
Pierce the thin Vails of interambient air?  
What sprightly Beauties from that sacred Shrine  
Do we behold? compared to thine  
Doves eyes are dull: the lustre's all divine.  
Whilst thy dissheveled locks are whither far  
Than Gileads new-washt fleeces are:  
verse 2 Beneath whose tresses, studs of pearl display  
Their light, like Stars placed near the Milky-way;  
Which in a Semicircle stand,  
Set in due distance by th' Almighty's hand:  
More white than wool, more glorious than the throng  
Of Ewes when all are big with young.  
verse 3 Thy melting Speech with a beseeming grace  
Flows from thy lips, where Scarlet spread  
Reflects upon thy Face  
A fainter Virgin Red,  
Which to thy lofty Temples makes a way  
As blushing mornings hasten to the day.  
Those Temples which at distance seen  
Are like Pomegranates ripened from the Green.  
verse 4 Thy neck's a Fortress of a greater power  
Than ere was David's warlike Tower;  
A thousand Bucklers there were spread  
(Shields for the breast, and Armour for the head)  
Little enough to stop the fretful foe:  
But when thou dost thy Beauty show,  
Unto thy Trophies all must yield  
And quit the Field;  
Thine Arrows wound the heart, and pierce the stoutest shield.  
verse 5 Two vast supporting hills of snow  
Maintain this Castle's foot below;  
The youthful breasts which like two Twins appear,  
(Roes of the self same year)  
Roes which amidst the Lilies stray  
verse 6 Until the shades are chased away  
And the pale Morn'-star ushers in the day.  
Up to the mountains height  
I'll take my flight,  
And view those Pastures which dispense  
The sweets of Myrrh and Frankincense.  
verse 7 If from the days in which thou first didst place  
Thy trembling foot on Aaron's reverend head,  
I thy descent unto these times should trace;  
Tho round about thee there were spread  
So many garments rolled in Red  
(Dipped in that blood on which the Martyrs fed)  
No spot▪ no wrinkle would be seen:  
Thou bloom'st afresh, and art for ever green.  
verse 8 Haste thee from Lebanon, no more to dwell  
In Lebanon, though of so sweet a smell.  
Look from Amana's clouded height,  
Shenir and Hermon, Hills of might,  
(The glories of the Amorite;)  
Judea's narrow Confines are too small;  
(Tho there was the Messiahs' Birth)  
Hear a rebounding call  
Echoed from th' utmost Caverns of the Earth,  
From Lion's dens, and from the treacherous Cell  
Of those rude beasts which in the Desert dwell.  
What new, what unaccustomed smart  
Possesses this my Captived heart!  
A strange insinuating flame  
(That found a Conquest wheresoever it came)  
Has scattered in its powerful heat,  
And here it acts as in its proper seat:  
One of her chains, one of my Sister's Eyes  
Have bound me fast, and rendered me her prize.  
If One of these so much could do,  
How should I be subdued, and overcome by Two!  
If this small Glimpse be such, then what shall be  
The Blisses of Eternity!  
verse 10 Sister and Spouse in one Combine  
To kindle flames, and render 'em Divine,  
Flames of a nobler heat than those of Wine.  
Whilst near those Milky Paps above,  
Those famous Treasuries which said  
The scattered Sheep before their Pan was dead,  
Dodim appears, and Metonymick Love.  
verse 11 O thou by sacred ties  
To me so closely knit,  
When thou dost thy best Oracles declare  
By Priests, and not by murmuring air,  
To thy soft voice the mystic Wit  
Of busy Spirits, and of gentile Lies  
Must with their flatteries submit.  
So healing are thy words, so calm  
When thou the pious heart dost meet,  
That tears of Balm  
Or drops of Honey are not half so sweet.  

verse 12 Thou like a Garden fresh dost stand  
(A plat of Palaestina's Land)  
Fenced and encircled by th' Almighty's hand.  
Fenced from the subtle Fox, and ranging Boar,  
Who'd overturn the wall, or undermine the door:  
Within whose borders we behold  
A Fountain fairer than the Springs of old  
Made for the Nations Weal,  
But shut from Beasts by the great Gard'ners' Seal:  
Those Beasts who their ungodly pastime take  
In striving how to mud the Crystal Lake.   
verse 13. 14, 15. See where the streams with silent murmur creep  
And steal in by- Maeanders from the Deep;  
Till (safe in covert passages) they breathe  
Their subtle moisture from beneath;  
Unmindful of the paces they have gone,  
From Carmel, from the top of Lebanon:  
Their Donor's frank, and they are tree;  
As they receive they give;  
By them the Spikenard and the Cypress-tree,  
Pomegranates, and the Saffron live:  
Alike their Bounties they dispense  
To Myrrh, to Aloes, and the Frankincense.  CHURCH. 
verse 16 Haste, my Beloved, haste,  
And when thou dost of these thy Dainties taste,  
O let thy Glory shine  
Upon this Fountain, and these Shades of thine!  
Then shall the Northwind wake, the Southwind blow,  
And from these beds the balmy Spices flow.   

CHAP. V.  CHRIST. 
verse 1 FRom the Almighty Seat above,  
As boundless as the Great Jehovah's Love,  
My Father's Beatific breast,  
Where thou must shortly (when Triumphant) rest,  
I thy Beloved, guarded with a Choir  
Of Angels, with an Host of fire  
To give thine Enemies their doom,  
Am to my Garden, to my Sister come.  
I've cropped my Myrrh, and plucked my fill  
From every Spicy quill:  
I've eat my honey, and have made a Feast  
Upon the Treasures of thy Milky breast.  
You who with famine pine,  
Or by tradition fast  
From untaught Sires, who never understood  
The virtue of a thing or sweet or good,  
Come, come, and take a full repast,  
The Feast forbids a modest taste.  
A mighty Feast made up of things Divine,  
Hony with Milk, Milk mingled with Wine.  CHURCH. 
verse 2 The Gates were shut, the Prison close,  
And every Captive took his soft repose;  
The stretcht-out Arms, which lately did complain  
Of slavery in vain,  
Now seemed to clasp a breast  
Made up of liberty and rest.  
But this was but a fancied sleep;  
(Grief, like to Water, silent is when deep)  
For in my dreams the heat of Love  
(Like Vapours cloistered in the chilly Earth,  
And struggling for a Birth,)  
Insensibly began to move:  
My wakeful heart did only panting lie  
Beneath the Covert of a closed up Eye;  
Whilst from below I seemed to hear  
(As though the Souls knew how to woe,  
And had a cunning Language too)  
A fainting voice, which hardly reached mine ear.  CHRIST. 
‛ Sister awake, what from above,  
‛ Mine undefiled One, my Love,  
‛ No voice! or is her Charity  
‛ More cold than I!  
‛ I'll call again— What from above,  
‛ Sister awake, arise my Dove,  
‛ Unbar the closed up doors, and see  
‛ Who 'tis that calls and knocks so loud: 'Tis he  
‛ Who drawn by thine ore-powring Arms  
‛ Has marched the Desert from afar,  
‛ Without the conduct of one happy Star:  
‛ Undaunted ventured all the spite  
‛ Of Wind, of Storm, and of a gloomy Night;  
‛ And tempted more than common harms  
to find a Shelter in thy tender Arms.  
‛ And canst thou pass these Hazards by  
‛ With so small Love, and so much Cruelty?  
‛ See how the curled, and well compacted hair  
‛ Fanned by fresh gales, and moved by milder air,  
‛ Now hangs dissheveled by the Tempest torn,  
‛ And on my Locks the Evening dews are born.  CHURCH. 
verse 3 But these Expostulations were in vain:  
I laid me down to sleep again.  
Alas; my castoff coat was folded by,  
My new-washt feet were scarcely dry:  
Should I defile them then? what boot to rise,  
And chase that sleep that had but seized my eyes?  
verse 4 Yet he endeavoured still, and pressed the more  
Upon the stubborn door:  
When strait (the check of mine ingrateful Love)  
A sudden qualm did in my bowels move.  
Oh how I sight! my swoln-up heart  
Was big with Passion; and upbraiding smart  
Struck thro' my panting breast,  
Who for a sleepless rest  
Had sold the bounties of so fair a Guest.  
verse 5 At length I gave my slumbers o'er,  
And marched thro' darkness to the wont place  
Where Lovers met, where Lovers do embrace;  
But missed the entry to the door.  
Alas! my Breast, though all a flame,  
Could give no light  
To guide me in the depth of night,  
Until a cloud of Odours came,  
Sent from his graceful fingers, such  
Which though the fainter relics of a touch  
Impressed upon the lock, were sweeter far  
Than ahab's balms, or India's Spices are.  

verse 6 Then I unbar'd the doors— Whos's there? What Guest  
(Said I) that interrupts my rest?  
No voice, but all was silent as the night,  
For he had newly took his flight.  
Oh how I trembling stood!  
No Tongue can tell the smart  
That seized my heart  
Under the swift recoilment of the blood:  
I stood and called, and called, but all in vain,  
The very Echo scarce returned again.  
verse 7 Then more than pale with bashful fear,  
Unarmed, ungirt, unblesst,  
I roamed abroad to meet the wand'ring Guest:  
But strait the busy Watch drew near;  
From whose stern looks I pity did implore:  
And when a storm of sighs  
Had tied my Tongue that it could plead no more,  
Begged silent pity with my weeping Eyes,  
Then stopped, and wooed again: but all  
Their pity was but Wormwood mixed with Gall.  
O how they checked my folly, how they strove  
Each to upbraid my but pretended Love!  
[Unhappy Hypocrite, thy crime  
Was soon found out; the darkest night,  
Th' obscurest time  
Exposes that as quickly as the light.]  
But this was but the first degree  
Of their inhuman Cruelty;  
For when I ventured on to plead my Cause,  
And little feared, but that a weak  
And helpless Woman might have leave to speak;  
Instead of Reason, and of equal Laws,  
They answered me with Wounds to every Clause:  
Which when I strove to close again,  
(Lest the sad Wether should augment my pain)  
And bind up with my Veil (the height  
Of their unmanly spite!)  
They ravished that away by an ore-powring might.  
Unhappy Soul, who'll pity thee  
In depth of all thy misery?  
I once the People's joy, am now their scorn,  
By my best friends, nay by my Love forlorn:  
Can this black midnight ere expect a morn!  
verse 8 I turned to Zions Daughters then  
To see if Women were more kind than Men:  
I charge you, O ye Fair (said I)  
If my Beloved passes by,  
You tell him how I lie  
Wounded, and at the point to die.  
Tell him— Oh tell him this:  
And much, much more— But yet above  
The rest, the deepest Wound was his,  
And I am sick of Love.   CHORUS. Daughters of Zion. 
verse 9 What's thy Beloved, O thou Fair?  
With whom may he compare?  
What's thy Beloved more than others are?  
What is he more, Fairest of Queens, than them  
Who bear the glories of Jerusalem?  
Are his Encomiums so large,  
That thus thou giv'st so strict a charge?  
What is he? Speak—  CHURCH. 
verse 10— Should you but trace  
The Beauties of his goodly Face,  
And see how strangely they are spread  
Betwixt the White and Red,  
(Parted by light, not by a shade)  
The Lilies would appear but pale, and fade,  
Like bashful Stars before the rising Sun,  
And Roses blush to see their Red outdone.  
If thousands, nay ten thousand Loves you see,  
Of all the rest you'll tell me, This is he.  
verse 11 His lofty Head is fairer to behold  
Than Ophyrs' Treasures were of old,  
Or Babylonish Dura's Gold.  
Round which his black curled locks are set,  
Which in their circles fitly met  
Make him appear like Or begirt with Jet.  
verse 12 His Eyes are Doves Eyes, fair and bright  
With watery clearness, and with milky White:  
From whose transparent balls the flashes fly  
Swifter than Lightning darted thro' the Sky.  
verse 13 By whose blessed rays the Spices grow  
Upon his Cheeks, where's seen a lasting Day  
With flowrs more fresh, more gay  
Than those in May;  
And from his Lips the fragrant Ointments flow.  

verse 14 His Hands are like to rings of Gold, beset  
With Tarshish; [Ashers Crysolite]  
His Belly's like to Ivory o'erlaid  
With Sapphyrs, white and blue displayed.  
verse 15 His Legs are two Supporters, which uphold  
These structures; Marble Pillars rimmed with Gold.  
His looks are like to Lebanon, but far  
More glorious than those Cedars are.  
verse 16 When he the pious Votary does meet  
His Mouth's most sweet:  
From whence a stream of Rhetoric flows; such Speech  
As seems at once to threaten and beseech.  
He's altogether lovely, this is he:  
Him if you haply see,  
Good Zions Daughters send him home to me.    

CHAP. VI  CHORUS. Daughters of Zion. 
verse 1 WHither is thy Beloved gone?  
Speak, Fairest of thy Sex, that we  
May seek him too; 'tis ill to walk alone.  
What dark, what unfrequented place  
Can hide the Glories of so fair a Face?  
Let's march along: The Traveller may see  
(Tho now he wanders in obscurity)  
That brightness which the Sun a while does shroud,  
(Before 'tis Set) though from a distant Cloud.  CHURCH. 
verse 2— Alas! I've wandered up and down  
This glorious but ingrateful Town.  
I've sought him sighing, big with care,  
Yet met with nothing but Despair:  
And with my nimble feet  
Have measured out each space,  
Trod every Street  
Of this unthankful place.  
No Watchman but has heard my woeful call  
Rebounding from the circuit of the Wall.  
But all in vain.  
Who now shall Zions praises Sing?  
(Zion too proud to entertain the King.)  
He's gone down to the Plain  
(Humble and meek) to view the Plants below,  
Brought forth by a successful rain;  
Those pleasant Valleys where the Spices grow:  
To gather Lilies, and to spend his hours  
Amongst the dew-bespangled flowers.  

verse 3— But my Beloved's only mine, and I am his:  
He feeds beneath a shrine  
Of Lilies, where the Banquet's all Divine.   CHRIST. 
verse 4 See, my Beloved, thou art Fair,  
More beautiful than Tirzah's Turrets are;  
(Tirzah where Grandsire-Princes used to sing  
The praises of their King:)  
The Sons of Zion shall no more admire  
The Hill of Jebus in its best attire.  
But whilst these Troops of Beauty shine so bright,  
They're mixed with, not ore-powred by might:  
And though so terrible, the World may see  
(Thomas 'tis alone in thee)  
True Love enthroned in Majesty.  
verse 5 Th' hast overcome me, O thou Fair;  
Turn, turn away those powerful Eyes:  
No need to conquer that which is thy Prize.  
The Tresses of thy bright dissheveled Hair  
Are whiter than the milky Coats  
Of Gileads new-washt Goats.  
verse 6 Thy well-set Teeth in equal order stand,  
No one that's injured in a throng;  
The Ewes that graze in Palaestina's ground  
Are not so comely when they're big with young:  
When from the Silver streams they've drawn their fill,  
And sunned their Fleeces in the Sacred Hill.  
verse 7 Thy Temples, fraight with Modesty, are seen  
To match Pomegranates when the blushing Red  
Is fitly shed  
Upon the chaster Green.  
How glorious wilt thou once appear  
In thy Triumphant Kingdom, who hast stood  
So beautiful so lovely here  
Amongst green wounds and garments rolled in blood?  
verse 8 And tho' the matchless spite  
Of evil-will would swell to such a height  
As to deprive thee of thy Golden bell,  
And leave the fair Pomegranate but a shell;  
Yet in thy borders Threescore Queens are fed,  
And Fourscore Concubines do spread  
Their Arms about the Bridal bed.  
And though so many Worthies have been slain,  
Ten thousand Virgins Constitute thy Train.  
verse 9 Let other Spouses to a right pretend,  
'Tis only Thou that art my Friend;  
Mine undefiled One, my Love,  
The Daughter of Jerusalem above.  
The Wiser saw thee from a far,  
And blest thee as the Magis did the Star:  
The Concubines in holy order cried,  
Hail Queen of Nations; Hail, the Maids replied.  
verse 10 Who's this whose Majesty surrounds the Earth,  
Fair as the Morning from her purple Birth?  
The darkened Sun's amazed; the Planets shroud  
Their useless Light;  
The Moon's confounded at the dreadful Sight,  
Hiding her spotted horns behind a Cloud.  
The frighted Orbs in fearful distance stand,  
No longer turned by an ore-powring hand:  
They neither Light nor Virtue can dispense,  
But stand in need of greater Influence.  
Thy Rays outshine them all: thouart brighter far  
Than burnished Spears and warlike Banners are.  

verse 11 But Feasted with so fair a show,  
Lest too much light  
Should overcome the sight,  
I hasted to the Vales below,  
To see the new Plantations of my Bride,  
(The People's scorn, but Zions pride)  
Those fruitful Vines, which by their senseless paces  
Hug'd the sweet product of their soft Embraces:  
To view the Nut-trees, and to know  
How the Pomegranate did begin to grow.  
verse 12 'Twas but a moment ere  
My heedless Soul had been aware:  
But overcome with the Surprising Sight  
(Unable to remain a Guest  
Where so much Plenty made so great a Feast)  
I took me to my flight.  
Amazement added Wings unto my heels,  
The swiftest Gale of Wind;  
Aminadab himself was left behind,  
And his hot Chariot-wheels.   
verse 13 Return, return, O Shulamite,  
That we may see the goodly sight  
Of Selomoh, and the Shulamite.  
What would you see in her and him?  
The goodly Forces of Mahanaim.   

CHAP. VII.  CHRIST. 
verse 1 HOw Beautiful are those thy feet  
Shod with the Preparation of the Word,  
Thou Daughter of the mighty Lord,  
Espoused to his only Son  
Before he put his fleshy Garments on!  
How fairly dost thou tread the Stage  
Of every froward Street  
In this unlucky latter Age  
Of thy distressed Pilgrimage!  
The well-compacted juncture of thy Thighs  
(By which the once divided Train  
Of Jew and Gentile meet again)  
Is made with Jewels of no common price;  
Whilst Prophets, Pastors, Teachers all combine  
To close the Sacred Tie, and render it Divine.  
verse 2 Thy Navel's like a Mazer filled  
With Consecrated Water; whence  
The Newborn Child  
Receives a newer Influence:  
By that blessed Lover he is born again,  
And all the former Enmities are slain.  
Thy Belly like an heap of Corn appears  
(The lasting Food of ancient years)  
Beset with Lilies [Innocency best  
Befits a Loving Feast.]  
That Treasury which all along has fed  
Thy Proselytes with Sacramental Bread.  
verse 3 Thy Breasts in equal Harmony consent,  
The Old with the New-Testament.  
verse 4 Thy Neck like an Eternal Tower  
Supports the higher roof, and crowns the lower.  
Thine Eyes are fair to look upon,  
Clear as the Streams of Heshebon;  
Where poor Bathrabbim quits herself of fears,  
And dews her Cheeks with penitential tears.  
Thy Nose is lifted to the sky,  
Fixed on those Stars to which of late  
Messias mounted up in State:  
The Spire of Lebanon is not so high,  
Which points where Syria's chiefest City stood,  
Whilst poor Damascus heard the cry  
Of injured Abel's blood.  
verse 5 Thy lofty Head is fairer to behold  
Than the Phoenicians pride,  
Or what they boasted of beside  
Height Carmel was of old.  
Whose Crest an Host of Martyrs do adorn,  
Like some bright Cloud dropped from the purple Morn:  
Kings are encircled in it, and above  
In a Triumphant Seat appears the God of Love.  

verse 6 How Fair, how Glorious is that Sight  
Which charms the Eyes with new delight,  
And treats the curious Appetite!  
verse 7 Thou like the goodly Palm art seen  
(Tho compassed round with weights, and all  
Those Plagues which would forerun another's fall,)  
To spread thy boughs, and crown thyself with green.  
Under these Shades thy Breasts appear  
Like Grapes i'th' Noon-tide of the year.  
verse 8 'Twas but a while ere I resolved to see  
The goodly Tree;  
But strait each branch began to bow the head,  
And beckon me to a ne're-fading bed.  
Thy Breasts are like two clusters of the Vine,  
Where Milk is sweetly mingled with Wine.  
verse 9 The words which from thy Palate do escape  
Are sweeter than the Canaanitish Grape;  
Of which thy Best-beloved drinks his fill,  
And draws new Oracles from every Quill.   CHURCH. 
verse 10 Thus I am his; and thus you see  
How his desires are centred all in me.  
verse 11 Arise my Love, the Morning's Fair,  
The Daystar sinks before a greater light  
Than that by which it travelled all the night.  
Let's view the fields, and feast in brisker air:  
Those little Villages which heretofore  
Were humble, destitute and poor,  
Shall now lift up their Turrets, blest  
And fitted for so fair a Guest.  
verse 12 Unto the Gardens we'll direct our way;  
The once despised Pastures of the Plain  
(From which the wealthy travelled in disdain)  
Shall now the Summer's Garb display  
In green and purple fresh and gay,  
Under a neverending day.  
Amidst Pomegranates and the Vines, I'll yield  
Each Vow that I have made;  
And every Shade  
Shall be a Witness in the blooming Field.  
verse 13 The Mandrakes give a lovely Smell,  
Balsam beneath our Gates does dwell;  
Where well-replenisht baskets hold  
The Bounties of the former year,  
And Treasures of the old.  
All sorts of Sweets are here,  
All wholly thine. That favour's let in vain  
Which minds not how to gratify again.   

CHAP. VIII.  CHURCH. 

verse 1 O That thou wouldst in human Shape appear,  
And dwell as one of these my Brethren here  
That thou wouldst rend the Firmament above,  
And from an Everlasting Throne  
Descend in State  
To conquer this unruly Fate,  
And take possession of thine own!  
How Sweetly would we kiss,  
How great should be the Bliss  
That Crowned a Brothers and a Sister's Love!   
verse 2 I'd lead thee with mine hand, mine arm  
Should shelter thee from harm.  
I'd bring thee to my Mother's house, that shade  
Which Zion for her Honour made:  
Amidst those Mansions we would stay  
Till thou hadst taught me how to Pray,  
And offer up what thou dost ne'er despise,  
An humble Heart, a lively Sacrifice.  
Under that Consecrated Shrine  
I'd treat thee with my Spiced Wine;  
Where Grapes with the Pomegranate pressed  
Should make a Sacramental Feast.  
verse 3 Thy left hand (new increase  
Of Honour, Wealth and Peace)  
Should like a never-fading Garland spread  
It's tutelary Guardship round my head.  
Thy right hand should embrace my Heart,  
And Crown the Intellectual part.  
All Treasures should be ours; the choicest things  
Of th' upper and the nether-Springs.  

verse 4 I charge you, O ye Branches of the Stem  
Of old Jerusalem;  
I charge you by your Modesty, nay more,  
By all that's Good, by all that you adore,  
If my Beloved slumbering lies:  
If deep,  
If unaccustomed Sleep  
Has shut his wakeful Eyes;  
You pass by gently, lest an ill-bred noise  
Should chase away his interrupted joys.   CHORUS. Daughters of Jerusalem. 
verse 5 Who's this that hastens from the rude  
Inhospitable Multitude?  
And leaves the Wilderness a more  
Unhappy Desert than it was before?  
See how she-leans on her Beloved's Breast,  
And in the midst of travail finds a rest!  CHURCH. 
'Tis I am she,  
Who raised thee from beneath the Appletree.  
There where thy Mother brought thee forth, to tread  
Upon the crooked Serpent's head.  
verse 6 O set me as a Seal upon thine Heart,  
Beyond the reach of undermining Art.  
Place me as thou wouldst place a Sacred tie  
Upon thine Arm, for Jealousy  
Is unrelenting as the Grave;  
Bitter as Death: Like an insulting Wave  
Beat by the stubborn Tempest from the Sound,  
It still recoils the more  
'Tis tossed upon the shore,  
Till in its lawful scope it overflows the bounds.  
Like an aspiring flame  
That left destruction wheresoever it came,  
It marches on with full Success,  
And flies in Triumph o'er the Wilderness.  

verse 7 No Waters can allay the heat of Love:  
Tho all the numerous Fountains from above,  
And every nether-Spring should creep  
To join in private with th' unfathomed Deep:  
The mighty Lakes should all their Treasures yield,  
And March their Forces to the watery field:  
Tho Seas were heaped on Seas, and every flood  
In open and offensive posture stood:  
Their Prowess would appear but small,  
This Fire from Heaven would soon consume them all.  
If with a fair impartial hand  
You bring the Bounties of the flowery Land;  
All the Creator did produce  
For Human use,  
And fix them in the trembling Scale; They'll prove  
Less ponderous than Love.   
verse 8 We have a little Sister far abroad,  
That knows not us; a stranger to her God:  
An innocent, an uninstructed Maid,  
By Ignorance and blinded Zeal betrayed.  
Good Brother speak, what Argument shall we  
Propose, to tempt her from Idolatry?  
She never heard of trembling Sinai's flame,  
Or knows she whence Prophetic Visions came.  
Alas! she has no Breasts  
To entertain her Guests:  
And she herself is pined; a longer stay  
Amidst her empty husks may make her faint away.  CHRIST. 
verse 9 ' Why thus we'll do: My Father's house is large,  
‛ His Tables stand  
‛ Thronged with the Treasures of a bounteous hand:  
‛ There she may fairly taste  
‛ Or (if she please) may take a full repast  
‛ Without or cost or charge.  
If her Foundation's fit for Zions Towers,  
The silver Superstructure shall be Ours.  
If she be strong enough to bear't, we'll press  
The deepest Mystery of Godliness.  
But if the barren Desert left her more  
A feeble Virgin than she was before,  
We'll lead her to a Sacramental door,  
And show her where Religion's Basis stands;  
Why the Messias must be slain  
By ruder Jews, and by the Gentiles hands.  
There we may boldly tell  
The tiding of Immanuel:  
And then (lest haply she revolt again)  
We'll there Baptise her and her numerous Train.  [Gentile Church.] 
verse 10 I once was Ignorant and Young;  
The Common-Law of Nature was my Guide:  
'Twas then I had no Breast,  
'Twas then I went aside.  
But now can humbly hear a Teacher's Tongue.  
Whilst thus I spoke, and with a blush confessed  
My Gentile Folley, all the famous Lies  
The Learned could devise;  
He smiling pittid them, and granted my request.  CHURCH. 
verse 11 King Solomon to show the matchless height  
Of Glory, Splendour and Delight,  
Prepared a Sacred place  
Which he himself might grace:  
A Vineyard 'twas, encircled with a Wood,  
Not far from Salem, where Baal-Hamon stood:  
But this he let to Keepers, who should bring  
A thousand pieces for an offering.  CHRIST. 
verse 12 My Vineyard's only mine; 'Tis I am he  
That looks to that: My shoulders bear  
The Summer's Toil, and heave the Winter's care.  
But, Solomon, to thee  
The Sacred Court pays tribute, whilst they bring  
Two hundred pieces to the Priests, one thousand to the King.  CHURCH. 
verse 13 O Thou that dwellest in that Sacred shade  
Which for the living Soul at first was made,  
But now the quickening Spirits choice;  
Whilst all thy blessed Companions hear thy Voice,  
O let not me with slothful Ear  
Pass by regardless and unapt to hear!  

verse 14 Haste, my Beloved, haste; how long shall we  
Wait for the promised Jubilee?  
And when thou rend'st the Sky,  
With such a speed on thy winged Chariots fly,  
That the chased Roebuck with his Wounds  
May seem to Travel slowly from the Hounds;  
And on the Spicy Hills the Hart may be  
No more the Pattern of Agility.    
FINIS.   

Errata.  
Page 5. line 10. its. pag. 13. l. 24. thy. pag. 19 l. 6. Who's. pag. 32. l. 29. Tidings