s of his wound;
His sacred side no more shall bear
The cruel scourge, the piercing spear.]

6 [His hands are fairer to behold
Than diamonds set in rings of gold;
Those heavenly hands that on the tree
Were nail'd, and torn, and bled for me.

7 Tho' once he bow'd his feeble knees,
Loaded with sins and agonies,
Now on the throne of his command
His legs like marble pillars stand.]

8 [His eyes are majesty and love,
The eagle temper'd with the dove:
No more shall trickling sorrows roll
Thro' those dear windows of his soul.

9 His mouth, that pour'd out long complaints,
Now smiles, and cheers his fainting saints;
His countenance more graceful is
Than Lebanon with all its trees.]

10 All over glorious is my Lord,
Must be belov'd, and yet ador'd:
His worth if all the nations knew,
Sure the whole earth would love him too.

Hymn 1:76.
Christ dwells in heaven, but visits on earth,
Cant. 6. 1 2 3 12.

1 When strangers stand and hear me tell
What beauties in my Saviour dwell;
Where he is gone, they fain would know,
That they may seek and love him too.

2 My best beloved keeps his throne
On hills of light in worlds unknown
But he descends, and shews his face
In the young gardens of his grace.

3 [In vineyards planted by his hand,
Where fruitful trees in order stand;
He feeds among the spicy beds,
Where lilies shew their spotless heads.

4 He has engross'd my warmest love,
No earthly charms my soul can move:
I have a mansion in his heart,
Nor death nor hell shall make us part.]

5 [He takes my soul ere I'm aware,
And shews me where his glories are;
No chariot of Amminadib
The heavenly rapture can describe.

6 O may my spirit daily rise
On wings of faith above the skies,
Till death shall make my last remove
To dwell for ever with my love.]

Hymn 1:77.
The love of Christ to the church, in his language to
her, and provisions for her, Cant. 7. 5 6 9 12 13.

1 Now in the galleries of his grace
Appears the King, and thus he says,
"How fair my saints are in my sight;
"My love how pleasant for delight!"

2 Kind is thy language, sovereign Lord,
There's heavenly grace in every word:
From that dear mouth a stream divine
Flows sweeter than the choicest wine.

3 Such wondrous love awakes the lip
Of saints that were almost asleep,
To speak the praises of thy name,
And makes our cold affections flame.

4 These are the joys he lets us know
In fields and villages below,
Gives us a relish of his love,