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A58334
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Spiritual hymns upon Solomons song: or, Love in the right channel Wherein that divine part of scripture is paraphras'd, and the dark places expounded; and may be vocally sung in the ordinary tunes of the singing Psalms. By John Reeve.
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Reeve, John, 1608-1658.
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1684
(1684)
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Wing R673; ESTC R219666
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59,375
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shalt All under the broad Heavens fill Thou shalt Jehovah's praise exalt And live according to his will Another to the Tune of Psal 125. THy Breasts shall give their milk to Kings And Princes be nurs'd up by thee Tyrants there shall be no such things By thine shall Kingdoms ruled be O what a bliss is this The World at quiet is Thy Nobles shall thy Scepters sway The Crowns and Thrones shall all be theirs Those that will not thy Seed obey Shall rue the day in blood and tears O what a bliss is this The world at quiet is When I the Tyrants cause to cease This shall produce a world of peace No more shall men for serving God Tast the Red-Dragons smarting Rod O what a bliss is this The world at quiet is Thy Breasts shall nurse up Rulers so Pastors according to my heart Shall be so well inspir'd and fit That Souls they shall by Shoals Convert O what a bliss is this The world at quiet is And with this holy Seed thou shalt All under the broad Heavens fill Thou shalt Jehovah's praise exalt And live according to his will O what a bliss is this The world at quiet is CANT VII 4. Thy Neck is as a Tower of Ivory HYMN 116. THy Neck O Sion is a Tower Of whitest Ivory No more to bear the pinching Yoak Of force and Tyranny The Irons of Unscripture modes And auk Imposed Forms No more shall gall thy flesh and Soul I 'le free thee from those storms The Idols now betake themselves To Clifts of craggy Rocks Thy God is risen light is come And spight 's a Paradox Arise and shine O Sion dress thee It is a pleasant day And I thy God am come to bless thee Send all thy fears away O let thy Stately Neck bear up Thy Head advance it higher Now all thy Yoaks are burst and burnt Put on thy best Attire Admit my easie Yoak and think Thy self a free-man there Chain'd to my Laws my Saints and me Thy Neck receives no scar CANT VII 4. Thine Eyes are like the fish-pools in Heshbon by the gate of Bath-rabbim HYMN 117. WAter thy Plants Jerusalem Salvation's at the door Unseal thy latent Fountains weep Till thou canst weep no more Time was when as of sence bereft Thou couldst not broach a tear But now the hardned Rocks are cleft And waters gushing there Thine Eyes like Hesbons Fish-pools stand VVithin Beth-rabbins gate That moistens the adjacent Land And doth it fruitful make I love to see that pierced heart That pierced me and mine The tears that wash my wounded feet To me are drops of VVine Thou 'st wept enough now weep no more But go rejoycing on I 'le banish all thy fears and cares And bid them all be gone Repentance breaks two hearts at once The Sinners heart and mine Tho Sin be great the Mercy-seat Shall cure that heart of thine CANT VII 4. Thy nose is as the tower of Labanon which louketh toward Damascus HYMN 118. O How I joy to see Damascus brought to me The persecuting Nations all With Sion shall agree To see fair Lebanon Her stately Tower look Towards her great foe Damascus and In peace each other brook Damascus and the Mount Shall reach their hands and joyn The Lion with the Lamb lye down In this great day of thine Thy Nose shall smell a sweet Perfume from Pagan Lands And breath a welcome Air to greet Their reconciled bands And would the Churches now Their breaches seek to close I 'de hast and come and quickly turn The heart of all their foes Would Saints unite yet more And all their fires cover I 'de make their Enemies yield themselves And bring Damascus over CANT VII 5. Thine head upon thee is like Carmel and the hair of thine head like purple HYMN 119. THy head like Carmels crimson mount Repleat with light as that with flowers Erects it self and doth surmount Above all human earthly Powers As Carmel did o're-top the Hills And far transcend their excellence The Glory of my Sion fills The World and takes pre eminence The mountain of the Lords great house Above the tops of Mountains rose 'T is now fulfill'd O Carmel rouse Exalt thy self above thy foes Lift up thy head Jerusalem I 've made thee Lord of all the Earth Thy Scepter 's in the hand of them That are men of Renown and Worth And as thy hair upon thy head In numerous Unites overspread So shall thy Purple Judges fill With righteous Laws the World half dead For Muninment and Ornament Hair is the Glory of the Head So shall thy wholsome Edicts spread And Justice be in Triumph led Another to the Tune of Psal 148. LIke Carmels crimson mount Such is my Church to me My Sion I account Above all things that be I will her praise Above the Moon The Stars the Sun Her honour raise Thy head doth raise its top Above all humane Powers Their Boughs I 'le have thee lop And pull down all their Towers And then shall we Rejoyce to see Fair Carmel be In high degree The Mountain of the house Of God shall top the hills And Sion shall advance Her rod against their wills Great Sion shall By force of Arms And milder charms O're top them all Thy Purple Judges shall Like hair in Unites spread Send forth such Laws that all The People shall be glad Then shall they praise And lively sing For Sions King Their Voices raise CANT VII 5. Thy king is held in the galleries HYMN 120. AWake O Sion rise and shine Put thy best Garment on Tho all the World ' gainst thee combine Thy King comes marching on Lift up thine Eyes behold those Clouds Those lofty Galleries There he Erects his Throne and makes His Glory fill the Skies There shalt thou look on him whose heart Was pierced by thy sin And thou shalt mourn to see those wounds And yet rejoyce therein There never was so great a day Sion thy King doth come And in these Galleries makes a stay Till thy great Work be done O rend the Heavens Lord and come Thou down for Sions cause Deliver thine from Sin and Rome And all her Popish Laws And make thy People once agen The great Hosannah sing And Spirit every sort of men To Worship Sions King Another to the Tune of Psal 148. O Sion rise and shine Put thy best Garments on Tho all the World combine Thy King comes marching on Behold those Clouds His Person lies In Galleries And there he shrouds Now shalt thou on him look Was peirced by thy Sin When thee he once forsook Cause thou forsookest him Now shalt thou mourn And yet rejoice With Heart and Voice Thy God is come There never was a day So welcome to the Saints As when he comes away To make up all their wants O rend the Skies O come away Make no delay Poor Sion cries Hosanna then we 'l sing And Hallelujah too We 'l Worshiship Sions King We 'l praise him all
O what a great Day 's this When in a net This wicked World My Foes are all beset My Soul admire With what a hast he speeds To fetch his Poor His Captives out of thrall This many years Pickled in Salt and Gall He comes amain And drives his fiery Steeds Like winged flames To help them at their needs CANT VI. 13. Return return O Shulamite return return that we may look upon thee what will ye see in the Shulamite as it were the company of two armies HYMN 112. REturn return O Shulamite Return return to me Thy God would bring thee back again Messiah waits for thee 'T will be the Nations wonder when The Pow'r of this Command Shall knit thy Sinews giving Life And Vigor to thy hand This voice Return shall rouse thee up From dead sleep thou art under And Spirit thy benummed Limbs 'T is like the voice of thunder Wake Judah gird thy Harness on Wake to the Battel now Wake Israel joyn thy forces with Thy sister Judahs bow Two Armies like two floods shall twist Their streams of fire together And drink the sinful Nations up And make their Glory wither Proud Babel now shall tumble down And all her Kings shall fall Now Antichrist hath run her race Shall be no more at all Another to the Tune of Psal 124. REturn return O Shulamite return Return thou Daughter of fair Sion hill O how I long My Soul is fainting till Thy God shall bring Thee back and make thee burn With love to thy Messiah dear and mourn Return return And make the Nations wonder Now shalt thou feel The Pow'r of this command I 'le give it force Thou shalt it not withstand I 'le spirit that word With life and make it thunder And wake thee from That dead sleep thou art under Wake Judah wake And girt thy Harness on Wake Isra'l wake VVake to the Battel now I 'le give the VVorld To thee thy armies too Shall drink the sinful Nations up and come And build their Trophies Sions mount upon Now is the time Ten shall a thousand chace Proud Babel now Shall tumble down before ye I 'le make her stoop And all her Kings adore ye Now Antichrist Thou 'st run thy cursed race Now Israel Strike home and take their place CANT VII 1. How beautiful are thy feet with shoes O princes daughter the joynts of thy thighs are like jewels the work of the hands of a cunning workman HYMN 113. COme Princes Daughter come Born of the Royal Blood My Father is thy Father whom To serve 's thy chiefest good I see thy feet are shod With preparation for A sweet returning to thy God Whom once thou didst abhor How welcome are thy goings How beautiful thy feet These buds that blossom from thy doings To me are dearly sweet There 's not a step thou takest Towards thy Messiah dear But drops a Jewel to enrich The World both far and near Jewels are not so rich As steps that Retrograde t is enough to raise a pitch Of Love I never had Pride not thy self for this Let me have all the praise Who to thy steps did strength confer And did this Building raise Another to the Tune of Psal 125. COme Daughter born of Royal blood The King of Heav'n thy Father is He now awakes thee with a kiss The day is come so long withstood Thou art to him so dear Thou never needest fear I see thy welcome feet are shod With preparation from above Thou that didst hate begin'st to Love A sweet returning to thy God How welcome are thy goings How welcome are thy doings The buds that blossom from thy feet The very Bones that turn and move In th' hollow of thy Thighs I love All these to me are rarely sweet Jewels are not so rare Nor can with them compare Pride not thy self give God the Praise That is the great Artificer Did to thy steps this strength confer And did this hopeful Building raise To him thou ow'st thy birth And more than thou art worth CANT VII 2. Thy navel is like a round Goblet which wanteth not liquor thy belly is like an heap of wheat set about with lilies HYMN 114. NOw I will tell the World the wonder A barren Church grows fruitful she From whom in many hundred years I had no Children born to me Her Navel like a fountain fill'd Held Goblets of infused Grace Her pregnant Belly breeds a stock Like heaps of Wheat her number was Nations are born at once they flock To her as Doves to Windows get This is a Harvest to the Lord Exceeding what he ere had yet When thousands could Conversion date From some one Sermons powerful word This done in Sions infant-state What will her manhood then afford Go Gentiles go your case condole A thousand Sermons scarce one Soul Thy Teachers fish and nothing catch They knock but who lifts up the latch But I 'le unite you unto those Shall ' crease your numbers as their own They shall be drops where Water flows Or grains in heaps of Wheat become Another to the Tune of Psal 125. NOw I will tell the World a wonder The barren Church grows fruitful she From whom for many hundred years I had no Children born to me But now she fertile grows Her numbers no man knows Nations are born at once they flock To her as Doves to windows get Her Pregnant Belly bears a stock For numbers like the grains of Wheat And these like Lilies white Are pure in my sight This is a Harvest to the Lord Beyond it self in Infant-state When thousands could conversion date From some one Sermons powerful word Tho since none such hath been I 'le make it so agen You Gentiles go your case condole A thousand Sermons scarce a Soul Thy Teachers fish and nothing catch They knock but none lifts up the Latch I 'le fertile mercies broach And take away Reproach I will unite you unto those Shall ' crease your numbers as their own They shall like drops where water flows Or grains in heaps of Wheat become A Joyful day to Sion A Pillow soft to lye on CANT VII 3. Thy two breasts are like two young roes that are twins HYMN 115. THy breasts fhall give their milk to Kings And Princes be nurs'd up by thee Tyrants there shall be no such things By Thine shall Kingdoms ruled be Thy Nobles shall the Scepters sway The Crownsand Thronesshall all be theirs Those that will not thy feed obey Shall rue the day in Blood and Tears When I the Tyrants cause to cease This shall produce a world of peace No more shall men for fearing God Tast the Red-Dragons smarting Rod Salvation shall for Bulwarks stand And Walls of Fire about thy place And God at all times near at hand Shall safe Protect thy blessed race Thy Breasts shall nurse up Rulers so Pastors according to my heart Shall be so well inspir'd and fit That Souls they shall by shoals convert And with this holy Seed thou