Christ and His Church; or, The Mystical Marriage

Verse 1

The King of saints, how fair his face; Adorn'd with majesty and grace! He comes with blessings from above, And wins the nations to his love.

Verse 2

At his right hand our eyes behold The Queen array'd in purest gold; The world admires her heav’nly dress; Her robes of joy and righteousness.

Verse 3

He forms her beauties like his own, He calls and seats her near his throne; Fair stranger, let thine heart forget The idols of thy native state.

Verse 4

So shall the King the more rejoice In thee, the fav'rite of his choice; Let him be lov'd and yet ador'd, For he’s thy Maker and thy Lord.

Verse 5

Oh happy hour, when thou shalt rise To his fair palace in the skies, And all thy sons (a num'rous train) Each like a Prince in glory reign.

Verse 6

Let endless honours crown his head; Let ev'ry age his praises spread; While we with cheerful songs approve The condescension of his love.