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.

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:

They cannot speak what Grace imparts, And for a great sum yield a little. Enlargements now shall speak the praise Of Sions King, where e're we come: And those that had not words to say, For Christ before, now praise him home.

Another to the Tune of Psal. 113.

AWake, O Sion! ope thy Mouth, Come and drink down my Spirit of Truth. Open thy Mouth wide as thou canst: Let it crave what it can, I'le fill it: My Holy Spirit, I'le largly spill it, And fully answer all thy wants. I'le pour my Spirit out like Wine; To th' brim, I'le fill that heart of thine, As once of old, I did at first: These liberal Draughts shall make theespeak, And pow'rfully thy Silence break: Come drink it down, and slake thy thirst. Now shalt thou my high Praises utter, And out with such transcendent matter, Into the Mouths of men asleep, That they shall wake. Thy dead shall live, And joyning with thee, Praises give To God and me; Thanksgivings keep.

No more shall men complain their hearts: Can't utter what free Grace imparts. Like strait neckt Vessels take in little: Enlargements shall be common now, And fill your Souls you know not how, And make you full that have been fickle.