Sitting
in
an
Arbour
.
I.
SWEET
Muse
descend
and
bless
the
Shade
,
And
bless
the
Evening
Grove
;
Business
and
Noise
and
Day
are
fled
,
And
every
Care
but
Love
.
II
.
But
hence
,
Ye
Wanton
Young
and
Fair
,
Mine
is
a
purer
Flame
,
No
Phillis
shall
infect
the
Air
With
her
unhallowed
Name
.
III
.
Jesus
has
all
my
Powers
possest
,
My
Hopes
,
my
Fears
,
my
Joys
:
He
the
dear
Sovereign
of
my
Breast
Shall
still
command
my
Voice
.
IV
.
Some
of
the
fairest
Quires
above
Shall
flock
around
my
Song
,
With
Joy
to
hear
the
Name
they
Love
Sound
from
a
Mortal
Tongue
.
V.
His
Charms
shall
make
my
Numbers
flow
,
And
hold
the
falling
Floods
,
While
Silence
sits
on
every
Bough
And
bends
the
List'ning
Woods
.
VI
.
I'le
carve
our
Passion
on
the
,
Bark
,
And
every
wounded
Tree
Shall
drop
and
bear
some
Mystick
Mark
That
Jesus
dy'd
for
me
.
VII
.
The
Swains
shall
wonder
when
they
read
Inscrib'd
on
all
the
Grove
,
That
Heaven
it
Self
came
down
,
and
bled
To
win
a
Mortals
Love
.