Wesley Corpus

How long, great God, how long must I Immur'd in this dark prison lie! Where thro'75 the avenues of sense My soul has dim intelligence: Where but faint gleams salute my sight, Like moon-shine in a cloudy night. When shall I leave this dusky sphere, And be all mind, all eye, all ear! How cold this clime! And yet my sense Perceives ev'n here thy influence. Ev'n here the magnet's pow'r I feel, And tremble like th' attracted steel. And tho' to beauties less divine, Sometimes my erring heart decline, Yet soon (so strong the sympathy) It turns, and points again to thee. I long to see this excellence, Which at such distance strikes my sense. My soul struggles to disengage Her wings from this her earthly cage: 73"M' imprison'd" in CPH (1738). 74Source: John Norris, A Collection of Miscellanies (Oxford: J. Crosely, 1687), 117. First appeared in CPH (1738), 27. It was omitted from the 4th edn. (1743) and following of HSP (1739/40). 75"From" in CPH (1738). Page 173 Would'st thou, great love, once set her free, How would she haste t' unite with thee! She'd for no angel's conduct stay, But fly, and love on all the way. Solomon's Song. Chap. v. 15, c. Alter'd from Sandys.76 Who's this, who like the morning shews, When she her paths with roses strews; More fair than the replenish'd moon, More radiant than the sun at noon. Not armies with their ensigns spread, So threaten with amazing dread! His looks like cedars planted on The brows of lofty Lebanon: His tongue the ear with musick feeds, And he in every part exceeds: Among ten thousand he appears The chief, and beauty's ensign bears. I, my belov'd, am only thine: And thou by just exchange art mine. Come let us tread the pleasant fields; Taste we what fruit the country yields, There where no frosts our spring destroy Shalt thou alone my love enjoy. 76Source: George Sandys, A Paraphrase upon the Song of Solomon (London: John Legat, 1641), 20-32 (with much skipping around). Omitted from the 4th edn. (1743) and following of HSP (1739/40), because moved to Page 174 Be I, O thou my better part, A seal imprest upon thy heart; Should falling clouds with floods conspire, Their waters could not quench love's fire: Nor all in nature's treasury, The freedom of affection buy.