I.
Heav'nly Love, our Bosoms seize!
Ye soft seraphick Pow'rs,
Come, join your Songs with ours:
Gently as the dying Breeze
Whispers o'er the Midnight-Seas,
Or breathes along the Shores.

II.
Let the tender Echoes round
The sacred Song improve,
And sweetly onward move:
Lost in Extasy of Sound,
Let the feather'd Choirs resound
Thro' all the tuneful Grove.

III.
Jesus, 'tis to Thee we sing,
Thou, the celestial Fair,
Soft to our Breasts repair;
Else we break each joyful String,
With sad Notes the Vales shall ring
Abandon'd to Despair.

IV.
Oh! thy Love our Passion warms!
Come bless our longing Sight.
Come, over-pow'r us quite:
Put on all thy wondrous Charms,
Come and fill our ravish'd Arms,
And Heav'n is less Delight.