O let my name engraven stand
Both on thy heart and on thy hand;
Seal me upon thine arm, and wear
That pledge of love forever there.
Stronger than death thy love is known,
Which floods of wrath could n evere drown;
And hell and earth in vain combine
To quench a fire so much divine.
Come, my Beloved, haste away,
Cut short the hours of thy delay;
Fly like a youthful hart or roe
Over the hills where spices grow.
Isaac Watts, 1709
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