1 The Voice of my Beloved sounds,
Over the Rocks and rising Grounds,
O'er Hills of Guilt and Seas of Grief
He leaps, he flies to my Relief.
2 Now thro' the Veil of Flesh I see
With Eyes of Love He looks at me,
Now in the Gospel's clearest Glass
He shews the Beauties of his Face.
3 Gently He draws my Heart along,
Both with his Beauties and his Tongue;
Rise, saith my Lord, make haste away,
No mortal Joys are worth thy Stay.
4 The Jewish wintry State is gone,
The Mists are fled, the Spring comes on;
The sacred Turtle Dove we hear
Proclaim the new, the joyful Year.
5 "Th' immortal Vine of heavenly Root
Blossoms, and buds, and gives her Fruit:
So we are come to taste the Wine;
Our Souls rejoice, and bless the Vine.
6 And when I hear our Jesus say,
Rise up, my Love, make haste away!
My Heart would fain out-fly the Wind,
And leave all earthly Loves behind.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | The Voice of my beloved sounds |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1737 |
Scripture: |