The Song of Songs 8

• [Sos 8:5] Who Is This Fair One In Distress?

  Who is this fair one in distress, That travels from the wilderness? And pressed with sorrows and with sins, On her belovèd Lord she leans. This is the spouse of Christ our God, Bought with the treasure of His blood; And her request and her complaint Is but the voice of every saint. “O let my name engraven stand Both on Thy heart and on Thy hand; Seal me upon Thine arm, and wear That pledge of love for ever there. “Stronger than death Thy love is known, Which floods of wrath could never drown; And hell and earth in vain combine To quench a fire so much divine. “But I am jealous of my heart, Lest it should once from Thee depart; Then let Thy Name be well impressed, As a fair signet on my breast. “Till Thou hast brought me to Thy home, Where fears and doubts can never come, Thy countenance let me often see, And often Thou shalt hear from me. “Come, my Belovèd, haste away, Cut short the hours of Thy delay; Fly like a youthful hart or roe Over the hills where spices grow.”

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  source: Cyberhymnal

• [Sos 8:14] Fly, Ye Seasons

  Fly, ye seasons, fly still faster; Let the glorious day come on, When we shall behold our Master Seated on His heavenly throne; Then the Savior Shall descend to claim His own. What is earth with all its treasures, To the joy the Gospel brings? Well may we resign its pleasures, Jesus gives us better things; All His people Draw from Heaven’s eternal springs. But if here we taste of pleasure, What will Heaven itself afford? There our joy will know no measure; There we shall behold our Lord; There His people Shall obtain their bright reward. Fly, ye seasons, fly still faster; Swiftly bring the glorious day; Jesus, come, our Lord and Master! Come from Heaven without delay; Take Thy people, Take, O take us hence away!

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  source: Cyberhymnal