ODE, for Palatine Tune

Heav'nly Love, our Bosoms seize! Ye soft seraphick Pow'rs, Come, join your Songs with ours: Gently as the dying Breeze Whispers o'er the Midnight-Seas, Or breathes along the Shores.

Let the tender Echoes round The sacred Song improve, And sweetly onward move: Lost in Extasy of Sound, Let the feather'd Choirs resound Thro' all the tuneful Grove.

JESUS, 'tis to Thee we sing, Thou, the celestial Fair, Soft to our Breafts repair; Else we break each joyful String, With sad Notes the Vales shall ring Abandon'd to Despair.

Oh! thy Love our Passion warms! Come bless our longing Sight. Come, over-pow'r us quite: Put on all thy wondrous Charms, Come and fill our ravish'd Arms, And Heav'n is less Delight.