Christ hath a gar-den walled a-round,
A Par-a-dise of fruit-ful ground,
Cho-sen by love and fenced by grace
From out the world's wide wil-der-ness.
Like trees of spice His ser-vants stand,
There plant-ed by His might-y hand;
By E-den's gra-cious streams, that flow
To feed their beau-ty where they grow.
A-wake, O wind of heav'n, and bear
Their sweet-est per-fume through the air:
Stir up, O south, the boughs that bloom,
Till the be-lov-ed Mas-ter come.
That He may come, and lin-ger yet
A-mong the trees that He hath set;
That He may ev-er-more be seen
To walk a-mong the spring-ing green.
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