1 Kind is the speech of Christ our Lord,
Affection sounds in every word,
|Lo, thou art fair, my love, he cries,
|Not the young doves have sweeter eyes.
2 [|Sweet are thy lips, thy pleasing voice
|Salutes mine ear with secret joys,
|No spice so much delights the smell,
|Nor milk nor honey taste so well.]
3 |Thou art all fair, my bride, to me,
|I will behold no spot in thee.|
What mighty wonders love performs,
And puts a comeliness on worms!
4 Defil'd and loathsome as we are,
He makes us white, and calls us fair;
Adorns us with that heavenly dress,
His graces and his righteousness.
5 |My sister, and my spouse,| he cries,
|Bound to my heart by various ties,
|Thy powerful love my heart detains
|In strong delight and pleasing chains.|
6 He calls me from the leopard's den,
From this wild world of beasts and men,
To Sion where his glories are;
Not Lebanon is half so fair.
7 Nor dens of prey, nor flowery plains
Nor earthly joys, nor earthly pains
Shall hold my feet, or force my stay,
When Christ invites my soul away.