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SSVIII. O that thou as my brother wert

The Church:

1 O that Thou as my brother wert,
sucking my mother's breasts!
I would Thee find abroad and kiss,
and none should me disgrace:
2 I'd lead Thee to my mother's house,
where skill she would me show:
spic'd wine of my pomgranate juice
to drink I'd make Thee too.

33 His soft left hand should underneath
my ravish'd neck intwine;
His right hand should around me bend,
as one most dearly mine.
4 O daughters of Jerusalem,
I charge you make no noise,
To wake or to disturb my Love,
till He shall please to rise.'

[Daughters of Jerusalem]

5 But who is this that comes up now
out of the wilderness,
Leaning on her Beloved one?
a pleasing sight is this!

Christ to the Church:

Thence, where thy mother thee did bear,
beneath the apple-tree,
Where she with pain had brought thee forth,
ev'n thence I raised thee.

The Church:

6 O set me then as a dear seal
upon thy very heart;
As a seal fix'd upon thine arm,
that we may never part!
For heav'nly love as strong as death;
and no relenting knows,
No more than the devouring grave;
like burning coals it glows:

7 It's flames are like the flames of JAH,
which many waters high
Can never quench, nor flowing floods
can drown, or e'r destroy.
And if the wealthiest man on earth
wou'd for thy love of me
Give all the substance of his house,
it quite despis'd shou'd be.

8 But we've a little sister fair,
whose breasts are not yet grown:
The day when su'd for she shall be,
what shall for her be done?

Christ:

9 Is she firm as a wall, we'll build
on her silver tow'r:
Or as an open door expos'd;
with cedar boards secure.

The Church:

10 Did He not see me like a wall?
my breasts as tow'rs to rise?
O then like one who favour found
appear'd I in his eyes!
11 A vineyard in a fruitful soil
had Solomon; and there
The vineyard leafed out to them
who vineyard-keepers were

Each one a thousand silverlings
for it's rare fruit repays.
12 My vineyard is before mine eyes
and in my view always.
Thy part, Solomon to Thee
a thousand justly bares;
And they who keep the fruit thereof
two hundred have for theirs.

13 O thou who in the gardens dwel'st!
they who companions are,
To thy delightful voice attend:
O cause Thou me to hear!
14 Make haste, O my Beloved one,
like a swift roe to me;
And like a fawn of harts upon
the spicy mountains be!

Text Information
First Line: O that thou as my brother wert
Language: English
Publication Date: 1758
Scripture:
Notes: Public Domain.
Tune Information
(No tune information)



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