VII. TO THE NAME ABOVE EVERY NAME, THE NAME OF JESUS: A HYMN. I SING the name which none can say The heirs elect of Love, whose names belong Unto the everlasting life of song; 5 ΙΟ All ye wise souls, who in the wealthy breast Of this unbounded name, build your warm nest. Awake, my glory, Soul, (if such thou be, And that fair word at all refer to thee), Awake and sing, And be all wing; Bring hither thy whole self; and let me see What of thy parent Heaven yet speaks in thee. O thou art poor Of noble powers, I see, And full of nothing else but empty me: Narrow, and low, and infinitely less Than this great morning's mighty business. (Alas!) will never do; We must have store. Go, Soul, out of thyself, and seek for more. 15 20 25 Go and request Great Nature for the key of her huge chest Of nimble Art, and traverse round The airy shop of soul-appeasing sound: All-sovereign name, To warn each several kind And shape of sweetness, be they such Or answer artful touch; That they convene and come away To wait at the love-crowned doors of this illustrious day. Shall we dare this, my Soul? we'll do 't and bring No other note for 't, but the name we sing. Wake lute and harp, and every sweet-lipped thing That talks with tuneful string; Start into life, and leap with me Into a hasty fit-tuned harmony. Nor must you think it much T' obey my bolder touch; 30 35 40 45 50 I have authority in Love's name to take you, And to the work of Love this morning wake you. Wake, in the name Of Him Who never sleeps, all things that are, 55 Or, what's the same, Are musical; Answer my call And come along; Help me to meditate mine immortal song. Come, ye soft ministers of sweet sad mirth, Bring all your household-stuff of Heaven on earth; Complaining pipes, and prattling strings, C 60 Bring all the store Of sweets you have; and murmur that you have no more. Come, ne'er to part, Nature and Art! Come; and come strong, To the conspiracy of our spacious song. Bring all the powers of praise, Your provinces of well-united worlds can raise ; Bring all your lutes and harps of Heaven and Earth; 65 70 Whate'er co-operates to the common mirth; Vessels of vocal joys, Or you, more noble architects of intellectual noise, 75 Cymbals of Heaven, or human spheres, Solicitors of souls or ears; And when you are come, with all That you can bring or we can call: O may you fix 80 For ever here, and mix Yourselves into the long And everlasting series of a deathless song; Mix all your many worlds above, And loose them into one of love. Cheer thee my heart! For thou too hast thy part And place in the Great Throng Of this unbounded all-embracing song. Powers of my soul, be proud! And speak loud To all the dear-bought Nations this redeeming Name, 85 90 New similes to Nature. May it be no wrong, Blest Heavens, to you and your superior song, 95 That we, dark sons of dust and sorrow, A while dare borrow The name of your delights, and our desires, Our murmurs have their music too, Nor yields the noblest nest Of warbling Seraphim to the ears of Love, Of a poor panting turtle-dove. And we, low worms, have leave to do The same bright business (ye Third Heavens) with you. Gentle spirits, do not complain! We will have care 100 105 IIO Come, lovely Name! Appear from forth the bright Regions of peaceful light; Look from Thine Own illustrious home, Fair King of names, and come: Leave all Thy native glories in their gorgeous nest, And give Thy Self a while the gracious Guest The hidden sweets Which man's heart meets When Thou art Master of the mind. Come lovely Name; Life of our hope! Lo, we hold our hearts wide ope! Unlock Thy cabinet of Day, Dearest Sweet, and come away. Lo, how the thirsty lands 115 I 20 125 Gasp for Thy golden showers! with long-stretch'd hands. Lo, how the labouring Earth That hopes to be All Heaven by Thee, Leaps at Thy birth! The attending World, to wait Thy rise, First turn'd to eyes; 130 And then, not knowing what to do, Turn'd them to tears, and spent them too. 135 Of all this precious patience; O come away And kill the death of this delay! O, see so many worlds of barren years To catch the day-break of Thy dawn. O, they are wise, 140 145 150 And know what sweets are suck'd from out it : It is the hive, By which they thrive, Where all their hoard of honey lies. 155 Lo, where it comes, upon the snowy Dove's Soft back; and brings a bosom big with loves: Welcome to our dark world, Thou womb of Day! Unfold Thy fair conceptions, and display The birth of our bright joys, O Thou compacted 160 (Cloud of condensèd sweets) and break upon us In balmy showers! O, fill our senses, and take from us all force of so profane a fallacy, 165 To think aught sweet but that which smells of Thee! Fair, flowery Name; in none but Thee And Thy nectareal fragrancy, Hourly there meets An universal synod of all sweets; By whom it is defined thus, That no perfume For ever shall presume 170 |