The Song of Songs 2:8

• [Sos 2:8] His Voice, As The Sound Of The Dulcimer Sweet

  His voice, as the sound of the dulcimer sweet, is heard through the shadows of death; The cedars of Lebanon bow at His feet, the air is perfumed with His breath. His lips as the fountain of righteousness flow, that waters the garden of grace, From which their salvation the Gentiles shall know, and bask in the smiles of His face. O! Thou in Whose presence my soul takes delight, on Whom in affliction I call; My Comfort by day, and my Song in the night, my Hope, my Salvation, my All— Where dost Thou at noontide resort with Thy sheep, to feed on the pastures of love? Say, why in the valley of death should I weep, or ’lone in the wilderness rove? O! why should I wander an alien from thee, and cry in the desert for bread? Thy foes will rejoice when my sorrows they see, and smile at the tears I have shed. Ye daughters of Zion, declare, have you seen the Star that on Israel shone? Say if in your tents my Belovèd hath been, and where, with His flock, is He gone? “What is thy Belovèd, thou dignified fair? What excellent beauties hath He? His charms and perfections be pleased to declare, that we may embrace Him with thee.” This is my Belovèd, His form is divine; His vestments shed odor around; The locks on His head are as grapes on the vine, when autumn with plenty is crowned. The roses of Sharon, the lilies that grow in the vales, on the banks of the streams On His cheeks in the beauty of excellence blow; His eyes are as quivers of beams. His voice as the sound of the dulcimer sweet is heard through the shadows of death; The cedars of Lebanon bow at His feet, the air is perfumed with His breath.

  source: Cyberhymnal

• [Sos 2:8] There’s A Light Upon The Mountains

  There’s a light upon the mountains, And the day is at the spring, When our eyes shall see the beauty And the glory of the King: Weary was our heart with waiting, And the night watch seemed so long, But His triumph day is breaking And we hail it with a song. In the fading of the starlight We may see the coming morn; And the lights of men are paling In the splendors of the dawn; For the eastern skies are glowing As with light of hidden fire, And the hearts of men are stirring With the throbs of deep desire. There’s a hush of expectation And a quiet in the air And the breath of God is moving In the fervent breath of prayer; For the suffering, dying Jesus Is the Christ upon the throne, And the travail of our spirit Is the travail of His own. He is breaking down the barriers, He is casting up the way; He is calling for His angels To build up the gates of day: But His angels here are human, Not the shining hosts above; For the drum beats of His army Are the heartbeats of our love. Hark! we hear a distant music And it comes with fuller swell; ’Tis the triumph song of Jesus, Of our King, Immanuel! Go ye forth with joy to meet Him! And, my soul, be swift to bring All thy sweetest and thy dearest For the triumph of our King!

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  source: Cyberhymnal

The Song of Songs 2:17--3:1

• [Sos 2:17] ’tis Night—but O The Joyful Morn

  ’Tis night—but O the joyful morn Will soon our waiting spirits cheer; Yon gleams of coming glory warn Thy saints, O Lord, that Thou art near. Lord of our hearts, beloved of Thee, Weary of earth, we sigh to rest, Supremely happy, safe and free, For ever on Thy tender breast. To see Thee, love Thee, feel Thee near, Nor dread, as now, Thy transient stay; To dwell beyond the reach of fear Lest joy should wane or pass away. Children of hope, belovèd Lord! In Thee we live, we glory now; Our joy, our rest, our great reward, Our diadem of beauty, Thou! And when exalted, Lord, with Thee, Thy royal throne at length we share; To everlasting Thou shalt be Our diadem, our glory there!

  source: Cyberhymnal

The Song of Songs 8:14

• [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