ill "a garden shut up, a fountain sealed," so far as the world
was concerned. The snare this time was the more dangerous and insidious
because it was quite unsuspected. Let us look at her narrative:--

I was asleep, but my heart waked:
It is the voice of my Beloved that knocketh saying,
Open to Me, My sister, My love, My dove, My undefiled:
For My head is filled with dew,
My locks with the drops of the night.

How often the position of the Bridegroom is that of a knocking Suitor
outside, as in His epistle to the Laodicean[4] Church: "Behold, I stand
at the door, and knock: if any man hear My voice, and open the door, I
will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with Me." It is sad
that He should be outside a closed door--that He should need to knock;
but still more sad that He should knock, and knock in vain at the door
of any heart which has become His own. In this case it is not the
_position_ of the bride that is wrong; if it were, His word as before
would be, "Arise, and come away"; whereas now His word is, "Open to Me,
My sister, My love." It was her _condition_ of self-satisfaction and
love of ease that closed the door.

Very touching are His words: "Open to Me, My sister" (He is the
first-born among many brethren), "My love" (the object of My heart's
devotion), "My dove" (one who has been endued with many of the gifts and
graces of the HOLY SPIRIT), "My undefiled" (washed, renewed, and
cleansed for Me); and He urges her to open by reference to His own
condition:--

My head is filled with dew,
My locks with the drops of the night.

Why is it that His head is filled with the dew? Because His heart is a
shepherd-heart. There are those whom the FATHER has given to Him who are
wandering on the dark mountains of sin: many, oh, how many, have never
heard the SHEPHERD'S voice; many, too, who were once in the fold have
wandered away--far away from its safe shelter. The heart that never can
forget, the love that never can fail, _must_ seek the wandering sheep
until the lost one has been found: "My FATHER worketh hitherto, and I
work." And will she, who so recently was at His side, who joyfully
braved the dens of lions and the mountains of leopards, will she leave
Him to seek alone the wandering and the lost?

Open to Me, My sister, My love, My dove, My undefiled:
For My head is filled with dew,
My locks with