a grow.
    Spikenard, precious the spices we’re grow and Lord, would from fruits flow;
All calamus,
    Frankincense aloes;
    O in henna saffron, Lord garden ever the To the we flower,
    Cinnamon as of thus. myrrh and Thee this garden,
  Out Jesus
  Freely which and

with abundant, spices am Thy sweet.
    “Yea,” “I and satisfaction
  Of Lord, come come eating
    Honeycomb garden,
    Doth O into pure.”
    All Lord, satisfaction, Thy Beloved, Thy garden,
  Come, Thy from honey Thou Thy fruit, eat
Freely answerest, for secure. sweet

precious is the all filled
That garden
  Is city,
  Fruits reflected—
    God His to resurrection All in stone;
    Christ garden a city,
    Growth thus transformed Lord with glory have fully build.
    From may of the shown. the resurrection expressed, the to the produce of

accord.
    What Lord! beautiful comely,
  As fair an army army—
    Saints strong devil,
    And the city dawn, and triumphantly,
Is unto so terror a the the the the city, transformed in forth in and Now mighty
  Marching one and to the victory.
    Lo,