1 The wondering world enquires to know
Why I should love my Jesus so:
|What are his charms,| say they, |above
|The objects of a mortal love!|
2 Yes, my beloved, to my sight,
Shews a sweet mixture red and white:
All human beauties, all divine,
In my beloved meet and shine,
3 White is his soul, from blemish free;
Red with the blood he shed for me;
The fairest of ten thousand fairs:
A sun amongst ten thousand stars.
4 [His head the finest gold excels,
There wisdom in perfection dwells;
And glory like a crown adorns
Those temples once beset with thorns.
5 Compassions in his heart are found,
Hard by the signals of his wound;
His sacred side no more shall bear
The cruel scourge, the piercing spear.]
6 [His hands are fairer to behold
Than diamonds set in rings of gold;
Those heavenly hands that on the tree
Were nail'd, and torn, and bled for me.
7 Tho' once he bow'd his feeble knees,
Loaded with sins and agonies,
Now on the throne of his command
His legs like marble pillars stand.]
8 [His eyes are majesty and love,
The eagle temper'd with the dove:
No more shall trickling sorrows roll
Thro' those dear windows of his soul.
9 His mouth, that pour'd out long complaints,
Now smiles, and cheers his fainting saints;
His countenance more graceful is
Than Lebanon with all its trees.]
10 All over glorious is my Lord,
Must be belov'd, and yet ador'd:
His worth if all the nations knew,
Sure the whole earth would love him too.