1 We are a garden wall'd around,
Chosen and made peculiar ground;
A little spot inclos'd by grace,
Out of the world's wide wilderness.
2 Like trees of myrrh and spice we stand,
Planted by God the Father's hand;
And all his springs in Sion flow
To make the young plantation grow.
3 Awake, O heavenly wind, and come,
Blow on this garden of perfume;
Spirit divine, descend and breathe
A gracious gale on plants beneath.
4 Make our best spices flow abroad
To entertain our Saviour God:
And faith, and love, and joy appear,
And every grace be active here.
5 [Let my beloved come, and taste
His pleasant fruits at his own feast:
|I come, my spouse, I come,| he cries,
With love and pleasure in his eyes.
6 Our Lord into his garden comes,
Well pleas'd to smell our poor perfumes;
And calls us to a feast divine,
Sweeter than honey, milk, or wine.
7 |Eat of the tree of life, my friends,
|The blessings that my Father sends;
|Your taste shall all my dainties prove,
|And drink abundance of my love.|
8 Jesus, we will frequent thy board,
And sing the bounties of our Lord:
But the rich food on which we live
Demands more praise than tongues can give.]