363    L.M.     Isaac Watts
The Church the Garden of Christ. Song 4. 12-15; 5. 1

1 We are a garden walled around,
  Chosen and made peculiar ground;
  A little spot enclosed by grace,
  Out of the world’s wide wilderness.

2 Like trees of myrrh and spice we stand,
  Planted by God the Father’s hand;
  And all his springs in Zion flow
  To make the young plantation grow.

3 Awake, O heavenly wind, and come,
  Blow on this garden of perfume;
  Spirit divine, descend and breathe
  A gracious gale on plants beneath.

4 Make our best spices flow abroad,
  To entertain our Saviour, God;
  And faith, and love, and joy appear,
  And every grace be active here.

5 [Let my Beloved come and taste
  His pleasant fruits at his own feast.
  “I come, my spouse, I come,” he cries,
  With love and pleasure in his eyes.]

6 [Our Lord into his garden comes,
  Well pleased to smell our poor perfumes;
  And calls us to a feast divine,
  Sweeter than honey, milk, or wine:

7 “Eat of the tree of life, my friends;
  The blessings that my Father sends;
  Your taste shall all my dainties prove,
  And drink abundance of my love.”]

8 [Jesus, we will frequent thy board,
  And sing the bounties of our Lord;
  But the rich food on which we live
  Demands more praise than tongue can give.]