Page 176
CANT. VII. 9.
And the roof of thy mouth like the best wine, for my beloved, that goeth down sweetly, causing the lips of those that are asleep, to speak.
HYMN 124.
A Wake, O Sion! ope thy Mouth,
Wide••s thou canst, for I will still it▪
Come and drink down my Spirit of Truth;
Upon thy heart I'le largely spill it.
I'le pour it out as sweetest Wine,
As once of old I did at first:
Brimful I'le fill that heart of thine,
Come drink it down, and slake thy thirst.
These liberal draughts shall make thee speak,
And utter such transcendent matter,
Into the Mouths of men asleep,
That they shall wake, and they shall utter.
Thy dead shall live, and those that lay
Securely sleeping in their sin,
Shall now awake, and weep away,
The woful case that they were in.
No more shall men complain their hearts,
Like strait neckt Vessels take in little: