SOLOMON's SONG ii. 10, 11

Let saints and angels join to tell The glories of Immanuel! This is my Saviour, this my love; The highest cedar of the grove; The fairest, brightest, choicest rose, That in his flow'ry Sharon grows.

The Lily he, divinely fair, Outshines the lucid morning star: This is my love, and this my friend, Whose faithful mercy's never end! Soft words of grace drop from his tongue Sweeter than hymns by angels sung:

' The storms are past, the winter's o'er, ' And wrath and justice frown no more: ' The SUN of Righteousness appears, ' Whose healing beams dispel thy fears, ' And shed abroad eternal day: ' Arise, my love, and come away!

' Arise, from sin's dark hateful night, ' And taste the joy's of gospel-light: ' From earthly playthings of a day, ' O turn thy lovely eyes away! ' Thy Lord invites: no longer stay! ' But rise, my bride, and come away!

' For though thou'rt black, deform'd and foul, ' Stain'd and deprav'd throughout thy soul, ' I call thee fair, and will not see ' A single spot of sin in thee: ' My righteousness hides all from view: ' I love thee, and will save thee too.'

Such were his words, so sweet, so kind, They melted my rebellious mind: What could I think? what could I say? His SPIRIT won my heart away. He is my love, and he my friend, Whose faithful mercies never end.