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.