1 Let him embrace my soul, and prove Mine interest in his heavenly love: The voice that tells me, "Thou art mine," Exceeds the blessings of the vine.
2 On thee th' anointing Spirit came, And spreads the savour of thy name; That oil of gladness and of grace Draws virgin souls to meet thy face.
3 Jesus, allure me by thy charms, My soul shall fly into thine arms, Our wandering feet thy favours bring To the fair chambers of the King.
4 [Wonder and pleasure tune our voice To speak thy praises and our joys: Our memory keeps this love of thine Beyond the taste of richest wine.]
5 Tho' in ourselves deform'd we are, And black as Kedar tent appear, Yet when we put thy beauties on, Fair as the courts of Solomon.
6 While at his table sits the King, He loves to see us smile and sing; Our graces are our best perfume, And breathe like spikenard round the room.]
7 As myrrh new bleeding from the tree, Such is a dying Christ to me; And while he makes my soul his guest, My bosom, Lord, shall be thy rest.
8 [No beams of cedar or of fir Can with thy courts on earth compare; And here we wait until thy love Raise us to nobler seats above.]