Poems by several hands, and on several occasions collected by N. Tate.

CANTO III.

Sponsa.

STretch'd on my restless Bed all Night, I vainly sought my Souls delight, Then rose, the City search'd, no Street, No Corner my unwearied feet Untrodden left, yet could not find The only comfort of my mind; The Watch, and those that walk't the Round Me in my Soul's Distraction found, Of whom, with Passion I enquir'd, Saw you the Man so much desir'd? Nor many steps had farther past, But found my Love, and held him fast;

Fast held, till I, the so long sought Had to my Mothers Mansion brought, In that adorned Chamber laid Of her who gave me Life I said, You Daughters of Ierusalem, You branches of that Holy Stem, I, by the Mountain Roes, and by The Hinds which through the Forrest flie, Adjure you that you silence keep, Nor, till he call, disturb his sleep.

Chorus.

Who's this whose feet the Hills ascend From Desarts, leaning on her Friend? Who's this that like the Morning shews, When she her Paths with Roses strews? More fair than the replenish'd Moon, More radiant than the Sun at Noon; Not Armies with their Ensigns spread Display such Beauty mix'd with dread.

Sponsa

Behold the Bed he rests upon, The Royal Bed of Solomon, Twice fifty Soldiers that excell In Valour, Sons of Israel; So dreadful to his Enemies, Their Swords well mounted on their Thighs; His Person guard from the affright And Treasons of concealing Night: King Solomon a Chariot made With Trees from Lebanon convey'd; The Pillars Silver, and the Throne With Gold of Indian Ophir shone, With Tyrian Purple ceil'd above, For Sions Daughters pav'd with Love; Come Holy Virgins, oh come forth, Behold a Spectacle of worth: Behold the Royal Solomon High mounted on his Glorious Throne;

Crown'd with the Crown his Mother plac'd On his smooth Brows with Gems inchac'd; At that solemnized Nuptial Feast, When Joy his ravish'd Soul possest.