Song of Solomon 1:2–2:7

It begins with a recognition of the blessedness of Messiah's love. His name, because of the graces in Him, is like ointment poured out. The uncorrupted ones love Him — those, I suppose, who have guarded themselves from idolatry and corruption.

Instead of saying, "Let Messiah kiss me," she says what is more fitting, more becoming. There was only one object. As she was His object, so He was her Object, for this is the point; and she does not need to say who. And indeed is not this its beauty? "Let him." It could not be mistaken. There might be ever so many in the world, but there was only One. And that was the One whom she had so offended — whom she had refused and rejected and despised.

In holy Scripture a kiss is the token of reconciliation, the pledge of peace, and the expression of affection... And the father kissed the prodigal son while he was still in his rags. Would such displays of love be too much to ask, or to expect, once he was clean from all his defilement and wearing the best robe? Certainly not! Is it too much, then, for the bride in the Song — for the believer in Jesus — to desire such an expression of the Lord's love? We are sure she desired it, not because she had any doubt that it was there, but because she delighted to see it shown. Love can only be satisfied with love.

The love of Jesus is now preferred to all the joys of earth. Wine is the symbol of the natural delights of men — the joys and luxuries of earth. But what are all these now, even in their most charming form, to the soul that is delighting in the love of Jesus? They have lost their charm for the eye and the heart, and now they would be a weariness and a burden heavy to carry. Jesus Himself is the soul's delight. "Though you have not seen him, you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory." (1 Peter 1:8)

She speaks not so much of the love itself, but of the enjoyment of the love. This is what is "better than wine." Every renewed heart will agree. The love of Christ is always beyond all our thoughts, infinite and unspeakable. Yet it is only as we enjoy it that we enter into it or appreciate it at all... Another thing is equally true. The more we taste of the love of Christ, the more we desire it. Every experience of it produces a deeper longing for a larger measure. So if the bride had not already known something of the Bridegroom's affection, she would never have spoken this passionate desire.

Trace the devoted life of the Apostle Paul — the persecutions he suffered, the perils he faced, the hardships he endured — and ask what the hidden secret of that life was. We hear him answer, "the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me" (Galatians 2:20). Here was the hidden spring of his life: a heart kept in the assurance and enjoyment of Christ's individual love. There are other loves in this world, but His love alone can satisfy the heart — "Let Him kiss me." For satisfaction of heart His love must be consciously known. This is what the kiss means — "Let Him kiss me." But further, His love must be known as an individual and personal love, "Let Him kiss me."

To her heart it is full of fragrance. All His names, titles, attributes, and relationships are sweet to her taste. His name is Himself. It expresses His nature, His excellence, and His graces. She cannot find words for the riches of His goodness, so she says, "Your name is oil poured out."

While the perfume stayed in the alabaster jar, its fragrance was shut in. Once poured out, "the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume." Prophets, priests, and kings had foretold the coming of Christ and the names He would bear. But in their day the fragrance of His name stayed shut in the jar. Then Christ became man and lived among us, full of grace and truth. Now His name was truly poured out. The name of Jesus stood revealed as the perfect expression of meekness, gentleness, patience, endurance, holiness, and love. Other names may disgust people because of the cruelty and wickedness of those who bear them. This name is fragrant with every grace.

The "good ointments" stand for the fragrance of His excellent perfections — seen in His life, in His acts of tenderness and grace, in His words, and in His walk of complete dependence and obedience before God as He passed through this world… Report and testimony can impress us deeply, even at a distance, as they impressed the Queen of Sheba. But only when, like her, we hear and see for ourselves are we lost in adoration before the fragrance of the good ointments.

Ointments speak of fragrant grace. "Your anointing oils." Oh, how many and varied are the graces that abound in Him, each having its special charm and all fragrant. Ointments were not only used for perfumes but also for healing. (See Isaiah 1:6.) There is not a heartache nor a wound that His ointments cannot soothe and heal.

The sweet fragrance of the life of Christ, as we may gather from Leviticus 2, was first and foremost for God. The priests might eat of the fine flour, mixed with oil, that made up the grain offering… but all its frankincense was to be burned on the altar, an offering made by fire, a sweet fragrance to the Lord… If there had not been a single soul on the face of the earth to delight in the fragrance of the good ointments of Christ, His life would still not have been in vain. It brought glory to God and filled His heart with infinite joy… And the more Christ was tested — and He was tested in every possible way, even by the holy fire of the altar itself — the more richly His sweet fragrance flowed out to gratify the heart of His God.

"Therefore virgins love you." Who does she mean by "the virgins"? Those who stayed clean from the corruptions of that day. This Song assumes the heart of the godly in Israel. They will be the true Israel, the true bride, when the day comes for this to be made good — a day of widespread corruption and turning away from God.

It is only the virgins — the pure in heart — who value His name and appreciate His love… They love because of His love. "We love because He first loved us."

Every trait, every perfection He showed in His walk through this world may be reproduced in those who are His… The more we are with Him and taken up with Him, the more we will be transformed into His likeness, and the more surely the fragrance of His good ointments will spread… The sweet fragrance of the name of Christ will flow from our walk as well as from our words.

I read the heart of the loving bride in these words: "Draw me, we will run after you." Her desire to be near the Person of the Lord is so great that she feels something like distance — near and dear though she is. So her heart breathes out, "Draw me" — oh, draw me nearer, closer, my Lord, to you! There is growth in grace compared with verse 2 — a growing understanding of Him... The most blessed communion with the Lord goes perfectly with the most earnest longing to be nearer Him.

His love is precious and His name is excellent. This creates not only the longing to be sure of His love, but also the desire for His company... She is loved into loving and drawn into running. And, so drawn, the Bridegroom leads her into the secret place of His presence — the chambers of the King. In due time the bride will worship the King at His table, and a little later she will rest with infinite delight in His banqueting house. But first she must be a learner in the chambers of the King. In that secret place she forgets herself, rejoices in the Bridegroom, and remembers His love. There the King is loved with a pure love — they love Him uprightly.

He who is most drawn by the love of Christ, runs the fastest. It was a case of, "Draw me, we will run after You."

"We will run," but note the last two words — "after you." Not after our own ideas, or even after the best of men on earth, but "after you." As the beautiful sixteenth Psalm says, "I have set the LORD always before me." Not sometimes, but "always." What a path ours on earth would be if this were so! It would be separate from everything that is not Christ. And when we pray "draw me," we should be ready to add, like the bride and her companions, "we will run after you."

The world is running after many things today. All too often Christians run after this or that instead of Christ. No wonder their joy runs low and their light burns dim, and you see them restless and uneasy in soul.

Weaned from everything else, attracted to Himself, we speak among our brothers and sisters of Him and His glories alone. How precious to influence others in this way, so that they run with answering affection after our precious Lord!

Now we have the result, the happy fruit, of the drawing and the running. The prayer expressed conscious weakness and dependence, combined with holy diligence. They have run well and reached the goal, and now they are crowned with joy and gladness. But never forget, my soul: it is grace that draws, grace that runs, and grace that crowns. It all flows from the shoreless ocean of the Saviour's love. "We will remember your love more than wine." Now she uses the word "remember" — she knew His love before. But she is enjoying it with increased interest. Like air, she is surrounded by it; she is in it.

Why should Christ be called "the King" here? It is prophetic of His relationship with Israel after their restoration. As to His right or title, He is always that. Is He ever called the King of the church? Not in Scripture. He is a King and worthy of all homage. But Scripture speaks of Him as Head of His body, the church, and as King of the Jews.

In its first application it is a prophecy of Christ, the Messiah of Israel, winning to Himself the heart of the faithful remnant in Israel... The Lord's love to Israel, His earthly bride, is only a shadow or reflection of His deeper love to His heavenly bride. Once we realize this, we find immense profit in applying these beautiful figures to ourselves.

In the presence of the Bridegroom, the bride can only rejoice in Him and His love. But as a result of being in the King's chambers, she gets a true estimate of herself, so before others she owns her true condition… If we learn what we are in the presence of Him who is the King, we also learn what His grace has made us. So while we own that we are black, we can also add, "but lovely," like the beautiful curtains of Solomon's temple.

The tents of Kedar were made of coarse black goat's hair. Seen in all their dingy blackness under the bright rays of the desert sun, they are a fit picture of what we are by nature — full of sin. The beautiful curtains were made for the temple of fine twined linen, with blue and purple and gold woven through. They are the symbol first of all of what Christ is in the perfection and beauty of His Person. But they also picture the believer as God sees him in Christ, clothed with all the beauty and perfection of His Person and work.

The sons of Ishmael, it is said, use the rough, shaggy skins of their black goats to cover their tents, and to a traveller's eye they look intensely black in the desert under a bright sun. Even a burning lamp, as someone has said, shows nothing but its black wick when it is placed in the rays of the sun. But what a happy thought: if the sense of how unlovely we are still troubles us, it no longer troubles the blessed Lord. He has removed it all, and for ever, from His own eyes. And faith's eye sees with Him. The judgment of God and the judgment of faith are always the same.

She confesses she is black. This does not mean at all, as some have taken it, that she was Ethiopian. It means sunburnt, as she says herself: "Do not gaze at me because I am dark, because the sun has looked upon me." She passed through the scorching heat of affliction and sorrow, yet she is lovely (Ezekiel 16:10); through His mercy and kindness she is not forsaken. The daughters of Jerusalem she is speaking to are women of the nation who do not yet share her knowledge of the Beloved, the Messiah.

So she was "black, but lovely." But I do not doubt that the blackness refers to something else as well. It is not only the blackness of failure, of shortcoming, of sin, but the blackness of suffering. And the Lord will feel it too… So she owns that whether it was her own fault, or the cruel persecution she had endured in the just chastening of her faults, such was her condition: black, but, by grace, she was lovely.

There the Bridegroom looks at the bride and tells her, "You are altogether beautiful, my love; there is no flaw in you" (Song of Solomon 4:7). Speaking of herself, she can only say, "I am very dark" (Song of Solomon 1:5-6)… So vast is the difference between what we are in ourselves and what we are in Christ — between our settled standing and the state we may actually be in.

The repentant son in Luke 15 had nothing to do with making the best robe or putting it on himself. He had only rags, and he told his father so honestly… But what a disgrace it would be to his father if, once the father had put that beautiful robe on him, the son went about mourning over his rags, or saying he was not well dressed. True, he would feel how unworthy he was of it all, but that would make him love the father all the more.

Scripture generally uses the word "black" to express affliction, sorrow, and persecution. "My skin," as Job says, "turns black and falls from me, and my bones burn with heat" (Job 30:30). This is especially true of disobedient Israel. But here the confession is sweetly joined with faith in Christ, and so it becomes the true expression of every believer. "I am very dark, but lovely." Black as sin in myself — whiter than snow in Christ.

She owns that whether it was her own fault, or whether it was the cruel persecution she had endured in the just chastening of her faults, such was her condition — black, but, by grace, she was comely.

In this book the Bridegroom looks at the bride and says to her, "You are altogether beautiful, my love; there is no flaw in you." Speaking of herself, she can only say, "I am very dark." In John 13 the Lord Jesus looks at His disciples and calls them completely clean. Yet within a few hours one of them would curse and swear that he did not know Him. So vast is the difference between what we are in ourselves and what we are in Christ — between our standing and our possible state.

In the light of Christ's perfection we have discovered our own blackness. So we realise that we are no pattern for others. Think of our many failures under fiery trials. Think how much we have slaved in the world's vineyards, and how much we have neglected our own things. Are we not forced to say with the bride, "Do not gaze at me"? And yet how often our words and ways betray the vanity of our hearts, which in practice says, "Gaze at me." The effort to attract attention to ourselves shows how little we have been in the chambers of the King.

She speaks of herself as burnt black by the hot rays of the sun. Her oppressors forced her into hard labour in their vineyards. They made her serve their interests, and she had no time left to look after her own things. Her own mother's children, that is, her own brothers, were her oppressors. They were the very people from whom you would expect affection and kindness. So she learned a sad fact: the world runs on its selfish interests. It will brush aside even natural affection to reach its own ends.

God had called Israel to be "the keeper of the vineyards" — that is, the keeper of the nations, to be a blessing to them. But she failed. She did not even keep her own vineyard. It is her confession to the One she now knows and longs for.

It is good for the most gifted not to be always giving out. It is also good for the simplest believers not to be always only taking in. An evangelist, for instance, might get so taken up with winning other people's souls that he forgets he has a soul of his own — a soul that must praise and remember the Lord. "They made me keeper of the vineyards, but my own vineyard I have not kept." It is good for the heart of any man, whatever his gift, to have a little quiet time for Christ. Those quiet times should not be too far apart.

A blessed change has now taken place in what occupies the bride. The Bridegroom fills her eye and her heart. Self is dropped! What a mercy! It is neither black self, nor lovely self, now. Being taken up with self always ends unhappily. Endless perplexities and sorrows flow from the eye looking within, instead of looking away from self and up to Christ.

"Tell me, O you whom my soul loves." She does love the Messiah, and the Spirit of God puts this language into her lips, and she will take it up in that day... It is not her doing. It is her believing. It is not her assumption; it is His grace that gives her these most comforting words... She had wandered long among the nations. She had gone after idols... Now her heart was for Him alone.

She wants refreshment and nourishment directly from Himself. "Tell me… where you feed your flock?" She does not go to the shepherds of Israel, who cared more for the fleece than the flock. She goes to the chief Shepherd Himself. She had been brought to Him as King; now she appeals to Him as Shepherd. Like David of old, He is the Shepherd-King.

The heart desires to know the place where Christ finds what satisfies Him — where He feeds. Where does He find this, if not in the company of the saints today? On earth He said He had "food to eat that you do not know about."... Can I, can you, be content that He finds no refreshment in our company?

Noon is the time of day when the sun is highest. And for us it is the same. When the trial is bitterest, when the way is hedged in, when the desert is a trackless waste of sand with no shadow to shelter us — HE causes "His flock to lie down at noon." As we read also in chapter 2: "With great delight I sat in his shadow." And when do you want a shadow? When the sun is high in the sky.

I knew a Christian who was dying. One would have thought he could not stand any greater pressure and further weakening. But the fiercer the rays, the more beautiful was the rest he enjoyed. There is no possible combination of circumstances in which this rest may not be known.

A hungry sheep will not rest, but will run about trying to find something to meet its hunger. If we are not feeding in the green pastures of God's Word, our souls will not find rest... It is important to begin the morning by feeding on the Word of God, under the eye of the Good Shepherd. Then we have peace and rest in our souls through the trying moments of the day.

The thought that others suspect her of insincerity troubles her greatly. The word "veiled" seems to carry the idea of being suspected. Who the "companions" are, it may be hard to say. Perhaps they are under-shepherds, who could not understand or meet her case as the Princely Shepherd Himself could. He knew her heart... Some walk with the Lord outside all the rules laid down by men. Many who claim to be shepherds of God's sheep understand little of such a path.

It is the language of a quickened soul who at heart loves the Lord but is out of touch with Him... She had lost this personal nearness to the Good Shepherd Himself. Yet the soul cannot rest without it.

Just as the loved one was suffering in her soul from the mean suspicions of others, the Beloved appears for her comfort. This is the first time we hear the Bridegroom's voice. But oh! what grace flows out to her! What words drop from His lips! "O you fairest among women," is the first utterance of His heart. Enough, surely, to sweeten the most bitter soul.

Here for the first time we hear the Bridegroom's voice. He addresses the bride as the "fairest among women." She may be black in her own sight, and hated and persecuted by others too, but in His sight she is the "fairest among women." Nothing will alter Christ's estimate of His people. Neither the failure of the saints, nor the slander of the world, will alter His appreciation of His own. He ever views them in all the value of His own work, and according to the counsels of His grace.

The Bridegroom's answer comes at once and clearly, but nothing more. He gives no word of approval to the questions… He delights in her person, and assures her of His delight in the strongest terms. "O you fairest among women." His love never changes. Yet there are many things said and done by her that He cannot approve of. In his person the believer is perfect in Christ, and in His sight. He is justified from all things. But in practice he is full of failure.

Is there not something in that little word "if" which hints that He expected her to know the pathway of His flock? As if the Lord had said — Surely you know. My mind on all these questions, as the Shepherd of Israel, lies plainly before you. Why not read, my love, and understand? He cannot scold, yet His love is faithful. As He said to Philip, "Have I been with you so long, and you still do not know me, Philip?" How gently He leads! How kindly, even the rebukes of His love!

"Go your way forth." The shepherd never feeds his flock in the cities. In the Song of Solomon the city is a picture of the world that man has built up to satisfy his own lusts and pleasures, with no regard for God. Are you saved and still going along with the world in its pursuit of lust and pleasure without God? Then you may be sure you are moving in a different world from the one where the Good Shepherd feeds His flock. Your soul will starve.

What mattered now was to be found following the ways of the word of God: "go your way forth by the footsteps of the flock." Those who had walked the path before were the sheep of Jehovah. "And feed your young goats beside the shepherds' tents." Hold fast the testimony of the word of God — what God had given in His own word. The shepherds are those whom God had raised up to guide His flock here below. In short, He tells her to hold fast to His word before she knows His heart is turned towards her — before she has proof of His love for her.

Let her feed the lambs beside the shepherd's tents, and in feeding others she will herself be fed. What is this but a foreshadowing of that last scene in John's Gospel? There the Lord speaks His touching words to a disciple who had fallen away and been restored: "Follow me," and "Feed my lambs." We find rest and food for our souls by following Christ and feeding His lambs.

Now He speaks about her entirely. He drops the subject of the questions; His address is direct and personal. And how full and free are the expressions of His admiring love.

It is the Lord speaking here. As He looks at His beloved one, He describes what He sees in her that delights His heart. It is a privilege to know His thought about us, and especially, if we love Him, to know what He delights most to see in us.

There is divine wisdom, and instruction for the soul, in the choice of His first comparison. Here He reminds the bride of the true Solomon of Egypt. He redeemed her out of it with an outstretched arm. He reminds her of Pharaoh too, out of whose iron grasp He rescued her. The truth of God is a circle. The love that delivered us out of Egypt is the love that brings us into Canaan, with all its mercies along the way. It is one perfect unbroken circle of grace and truth.

There is no doubt a reference here to energy devoted to the master's service, and to walking and pulling together in harmony. But there is another thought of still deeper meaning. The wild ass likes his own wild ways. He likes to run about at will and refuses to be bridled or tamed, or to submit himself to another's will. Is not this a striking picture of what the unregenerate heart is? But a steed in Pharaoh's chariots has been broken. It has learned to give up its own inclinations. It yields to the pull of the rein in its master's hand, and so spends its energy in its master's service. This driver of Pharaoh's chariot can be taken as a picture of the Holy Spirit. What the Lord delights to see in His own is that they give the reins of their lives over into the hands of His Spirit, to be subject to His guidance in all things.

...walking and working in peace and harmony with others who are likewise yielded to Him. Let each of us ask, Is that what the Lord sees in me? How it must grieve the Lord's heart to see His own so often in strife and discord. They spend their energy on selfish pursuits and go on in their own ways. They miss by far His chosen plan for their lives. No wonder their testimony is so weak, and their lives have so little fruit to His glory.

The chariot horse wears splendid harness. It may stand for strength, graceful build, swiftness, royalty and willingness in service. As soon as the charioteer has taken his seat, his horses are ready to move off. They grow impatient at delay. The lifting of a hoof, the movement of every muscle, tells him plainly: if he is ready, they are quite ready. And then, for all their power, how they answer the slightest touch of the guiding rein.

Like a horse in Pharaoh's chariot, adorned with all the trappings of royalty, so the bride was lovely in His sight. Her beauty was the beauty He had put upon her. The Lord can say the same through Ezekiel: "I adorned you with ornaments and put bracelets on your wrists and a chain on your neck" (Ezek. 16:11).

How often the human mind clothes the object of its admiration with attractions, and then loves and worships its own image. Not so the divine mind: there, everything is real. The Lord clothes the bride of His heart with His own attractions, and then admires her. He loved her — adored be His name — before there was anything about her to admire. Having adorned her with His own excellence, there is now nothing to offend His eye or grieve His heart.

Now He speaks of her entirely. The subject of the questions is dropped; His address is direct and personal. And how full and free are the expressions of His admiring love. "I have compared you, my love … your cheeks are lovely … your neck with chains."

How often the human mind gives attractions to the object of its admiration, and then loves and worships its own image. Not so the divine mind: there, all is real. The Lord clothes the bride of His heart with His own attractions, and then admires her. He loved her — praised be His name — before there was anything about her to admire. This is divine. "God shows His love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us." He has adorned her with His own excellencies, so there is now nothing to offend His eye or grieve His heart. … In admiring His bride, though she is still in the wilderness, He is true to Himself, for she is perfect in His own perfectness. Rebekah was enriched and adorned with the jewels of Isaac, long before she reached his mother's tent.

So the bride was lovely in His sight, with the beauty He had put upon her; as the Lord can say through Ezekiel, "I adorned you with ornaments and put bracelets on your wrists and a chain on your neck" (Ezek. 16:11). Does not Christ delight to unfold His thoughts of love toward His own?

Jewels speak to us of a beauty that is not ours naturally, but which has been given to us. So they are fitting symbols of Christian graces. These graces show in the believer's life as the fruit of the Spirit's work in the heart. They do not come from ourselves naturally. The power of the Spirit of God produces them. When we really surrender ourselves to Christ and hand the reins of our lives over to His Spirit, our lives will take on a truly Christian character.

A chain of gold, as we know, is the sign of promotion, high favour and dignity, as in the case of Joseph and Daniel… He has been admiring His bride — her "rows of jewels", her "chains of gold".

Here Christ puts His graces upon His spouse; in heaven He will put His glory upon her.

But the time will come when Jerusalem, repentant and rejoicing in the Lord's forgiveness, will again be exalted at the head of the nations. What a joy that will be to His heart! What a triumph for His grace, when He crowns Jerusalem again with royal glory — the fruit of His redemption and of the work of His Spirit in the heart.

While the King sits at His table, the worship of her heart rises like a sweet fragrance. The King at His table gives us a lovely picture of Christ among His own. This is not Christ with His robe tucked up for lowly service, washing feet dirtied by sin. It is not Christ as the Captain of the Lord's army, leading His own in the fight against the powers of evil. It is not Christ with tears of divine compassion, comforting a grieving heart. It is Christ at rest, finding joy and delight among His own.

To learn at His feet is good, but learning is not worship. To be comforted by His tears of sympathy is sweet, but comfort is not worship. In learning, I am conscious of my ignorance, in comfort, I am thinking of my sorrow. But when we spread a feast for Christ — when the King sits at His table — it is no time for teaching or comfort. There we leave our sorrows, our ignorance and our daily cares behind. At His supper, He alone fills the mind and holds the heart.

This book speaks in pictures, so we must read it with godly care and sober judgment. This verse has its precious counterpart in Mary of Bethany anointing the Lord Jesus with her costly ointment of spikenard. That ointment is the symbol of fragrant worship, and it delights the nostrils of God.

How did she fill her box of precious ointment? Ah! was it not when she sat at Jesus' feet and heard His word? … caught up in love for the One she adored, she pours the precious ointment on His feet. Truly, she could say, "While the King sits at His table, my spikenard sends out its fragrance," and "the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume."

There is an infinite difference between the attractions of nature and the grace of the Spirit… God forbade honey, the sweetness of nature, in the sacrifices… Its pleasant qualities are valuable for the family, for friends, and for the world at large. But they are quite unfit for God's altar or the King's table. The Holy One of Israel rejects both the sweetness and the sourness of nature alike.

It is a mistake to suppose that we have nothing to present to the King while He sits at His table. True, what we give Him is already His own. But that makes it all the sweeter for both… If the Bridegroom has His "good ointments," the bride has her "spikenard" — yet it is all grace. The table is His — the ointment and spikenard, too, are His.

We must not expect a box of spikenard to be ready in our hands just because we have come to the Lord's Table on the first day of the week. Mary's box of spikenard cost her something; it was very costly. So it will cost us something to have a box of spikenard to pour out on Him. It will cost watchfulness, prayerfulness and self-denial during the week, to keep near the Lord and walk with Him. Otherwise, on the Lord's Day there will be no spikenard to give Him — no worship in us.

The "Song of Songs" is a song of love. It has in view a future day, when our blessed Lord will come out in the character of Solomon. Yet we may apply it to ourselves today, because we also know Him as the lover of our souls.

Myrrh is a kind of resin gathered from a plant that grows in the East. It was used as a perfume and also as a medicine. It is the life sap that oozes out through the wounds made in the bark of the plant. It is, therefore, a reminder of Christ, who in love for us, was wounded for our transgressions and shed His blood.

The suffering love of the Lord Jesus, which the myrrh speaks of, will be fragrant to all around Him in His kingdom. In the day of His glory none will be allowed to forget that He was once the Man of Sorrows in this world. Myrrh was mixed with the wine offered to the Lord on the cross (Mark 15:23). Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus used myrrh and aloes to prepare the holy body of Jesus for His burial.

The myrrh speaks of Christ, but not Christ as an object before our gaze — Christ dwelling in the heart by faith. Myrrh does not attract by its beauty, like the flower. It is a resin precious because of its sweet odour. The myrrh, too, is wrapped in a bundle; it is unseen but its fragrance is enjoyed. Such was the beloved to the bride, and such is Christ to the believer when dwelling in his heart by faith.

This verse no doubt has its direct application to the remnant of Israel during the dark night of the great tribulation. That is the time when "darkness shall cover the earth, and thick darkness the peoples" (see Isaiah 60:2). But it has also a beautiful application to believers now.

His beloved one gives Him the most intimate place in her affection, while the world goes on in the darkness of night… But the world cast Him out, and He has returned to His place on high. So the world is left in darkness… Christ's absence marks the time we are living in, and the sad part is that He is not wanted.

A bundle, or little bag, of myrrh, carried in the bosom, scents the garments. It spreads its fragrance all around — at home or abroad, at work or resting, in the sanctuary or the social circle… And even after the person has left, the sweet odour remains, as a testimony to the value of what lay nearest her heart… Over the memorials of His dying love He has written in wonderful grace, "Do this in remembrance of me." He has not asked us to do some great thing for Him, or to lay some costly sacrifice on His altar. No; simply to be occupied with Himself as earth's rejected Christ during His absence, and to give Him a place in our hearts.

We cannot copy Christ; we cannot imitate Him in our own strength. As long as we look at Christ only as a model we strive to imitate, we will never succeed. But as we think on His sufferings for us, our hearts are drawn to Him and we embrace Him in our affections. He loved us and gave Himself for us. As we give Him the full place in our hearts, it will give a sweet fragrance of Christ in all our ways.

If the chariot-horse suggests the thought of willing service, and the "spikenard" is the symbol of divine worship, may not the "bundle of myrrh" be the emblem of a daily and hourly testimony for Christ? And what could be more natural, as a result of deep and solid communion with the Lord? All our services will become uninteresting and powerless if personal communion is neglected.

The bundle of myrrh is hidden from the eye in the breast, but the cluster of camphire is an object for the eye, and carried openly in the hand. Myrrh is the living juice of the tree, which flows in drops through broken parts of the bark, something like blood from the veins, or tears from the eye.

But further, the bride likens the Bridegroom to the beauty of a cluster of henna-flowers in the vineyards of Engedi. She would delight in her beloved in the secret of her affections, but she would also enjoy him as the object of her enraptured gaze. So too we need Christ not only dwelling in the heart by faith, but also as the attractive Object of our souls. Then, gazing on Him with unveiled face, we may behold the glory of the Lord and be changed into the same image, from glory to glory.

How different are the thoughts stirred by a tree in full blossom, and by one that is wounded and bruised, with its life-juice flowing from its veins! The one is the symbol of death, the other the power of life. The tender bud that finds its way through the hard bark of winter is always a striking picture of resurrection. The blossoms and the fruit show the power of life, and the rich blessings that come to man.

In the vineyard of Engedi there is the henna. There are at least twelve different elements of fragrance in Scripture, and henna is understood by some to be an emblem of the resurrection of Christ.

Wherever you walk — field or garden, valley or mountain — or in your usual round of daily duty, every second thought may be of the "well-beloved" absent One. The bleeding myrrh and the blooming camphire may well recall the cross and the glory to your mind. They may lead you to think of Him "who was delivered up for our trespasses and raised for our justification."

The vineyards of Engedi, we are told, were famous for their rich fruits and expensive spices. These places are famous, too, as a hiding place for David and his men when Saul was persecuting them. The fruitful valleys below and the strongholds in the mountains around gave shelter, food, and refreshment to God's anointed king, and to those who had cast in their lot with him.

Verse 13 speaks of the place Christ should have in the affections of His own during this present time of night, because He who came as the light of the world was rejected and has returned on high. In verse 14 we get Christ presented in His coming glory, displayed in Israel before a wondering world. No one is sure which plant the Hebrew word translated "camphire" means here. Some have translated it "henna-flower" — a sweet, showy, fragrant flower that grows in the vineyards of Palestine. If so, it would be a beautiful picture of Christ in His coming reign over Israel. He would no longer be hidden from the eyes of the world. All the display of His glory and beauty would be seen in Israel.

It is only a question of her affection. Nothing here would seem unsuitable if it were simply a matter of a real, settled relationship. But the relationship is not yet settled. It has not yet come. What we have is the expression of her perfect delight in one who loves her.

The bride's perfume has sent out its fragrance, expressing her delight in the Bridegroom; now he expresses his delight in the bride. She had said, "I am black," but the Bridegroom says, "Behold, you are fair." Christ always views His people in the light of His purpose and on the ground of His work. That is why He can say of each one, "You are fair." So the Apostle John can write, "as He is so also are we in this world."

What is it, some will ask, that can make one defiled and deformed by sin so "fair" to the eye of Jesus? Where, when, how, can it be found? What would all the riches, honours, and glories of this world be, compared with hearing such words from such lips! ... Know then that when a soul is drawn to Jesus, He receives it. He places it in the light of God's presence, in the full value of His finished work, and in the matchless beauty of His adorable Person.

In the third chapter of Zechariah we see Joshua standing before the Lord. This chapter is the account, I believe, of how the bride of the King is so "fair" in His sight... Joshua is clothed in filthy garments. Satan is there to resist him. He always seeks to hinder the blessing of souls. But the Lord shelters the defenceless one... The filthy garments are taken away; his sins are all forgiven. There is not a rag left for Satan to lay hold on.

Notice now how this expression of love to Him draws out an answer from the Lord!... It is not "I love you," but, "Behold, you are fair, my love." It is what the eye of love sees in her, though perhaps no other eye in the world sees it. ... What a different thing it would be from any other mouth than His!

All this beauty is the fruit of His work of grace in her heart, drawing out her affections to Himself. The repetition shows the ardour of His enraptured heart as He gazes on His bride, now made perfect through His grace. "You have doves' eyes." The dove is the symbol of faithful love, of purity, holiness, and peace. When a dove is separated from her mate, she rests alone and mourns until she sees him again. So she is a fitting emblem of devotion and attachment to Christ. The pigeon and the turtle dove belong to the same family. This was the only bird that could be offered on the altar, as a type of Christ in His love and purity and devotion to God's glory. The Spirit also descended on Christ like a dove (Matt. 3:16).

Doves' eyes are the expression, of course, of the modesty of her who was to be His bride.

When the eye of the Christian is single, chaste, and always fixed on Christ, then these words fit: "You have doves' eyes."

Notice that the bride speaks a great deal about the Beloved to others, while He speaks more about her to herself. This fits her need of reassurance exactly... for He is above all need of the creature, and by His love He creates love. She needs to know that He loves her; and on this He dwells most fully.

The Bridegroom had said, "Behold, you are fair, my love." With great delight the bride at once responds, "Behold, you are fair, my beloved." Her beauty is the counterpart of His. Is Christ fair? So are His people.

He has not come yet. But God provides the word, so that she may know. Her heart takes up these words and expresses its affection to the Messiah. Just as truly, God gives her to know that such is His affection towards her.

He is not only fair to the eye, but pleasant to the heart. Many are fair that are not pleasant, and many are pleasant that are not fair, but Christ is both. Oh! what combinations, what perfections, what harmonies are found in Jesus! Here, and here alone, the heart can find rest — quiet, perfect rest.

The bed refers to the couch on which the King and the bride recline at the King's table, and gives the thought of rest. When Christ takes His place among His own, a green spot appears in this barren world. In His presence there is rest.

Green is the most restful colour in nature. It is a compound colour made by mixing blue and yellow together. Blue is the heavenly colour. Golden yellow is the symbol of what is divine and pure, with nothing mixed in.

The green pastures and the still waters of God's abundant grace have long been familiar to us as symbols of the rest and refreshment of the sheep of Christ under His shepherd care. But the shepherd never pitches his tent inside the city walls. He rests His flock outside, in the open country. "The city," in this book, pictures the world; the country pictures heavenly places.

But there is one word in these closing sentences which shows full, conscious, happy fellowship with the one she loves. I mean that little word "our": "our bed is green … our house," "our rafters." It is like the precious little "us," "we," and "with," in the Epistle to the Ephesians. Oh! happy union — blessed unity, "our, us, we, with." Eternal oneness with Christ! One in life, one in righteousness, one in acceptance, one in peace, one in rest, one in joy, one in heavenly, eternal glory!

The bride does not speak of herself. She hears the words of His admiring love, but says nothing about herself. She does not even say that she is unworthy of such love. However deep her feelings, she passes over self. This is true humility. We may speak of bad self and unworthy self while the heart is full of pride. True humility does not speak of self at all, either good or bad.

Her answer is, "Behold, you are fair, my beloved, yes, pleasant; also our bed is green. The beams of our house are cedar, and our rafters of fir." That is, it is not some mere tent which might be taken down. She looks for a settled habitation when the King comes and owns her as His own. She looks for all to be in that established relationship which shall be for the glory of God here below. And so it will be.

The bed in a house of cedar and fir speaks of rest in a place of incorruptibility and royal glory. The cedar and fir are the symbol of royal glory. David and Solomon both made houses of cedar. They also resist rot, so are the emblem of that which is incorruptible and enduring.

The cedar is marked by remarkable durability, glorious height, refreshing shade and lovely excellence, and these qualities picture Christ. The cedar wood has a fine grain and a fragrant smell. It resists decay so well that people have found cedar beams, little changed, in the ruins of temples in Asia between 2000 and 3000 years old. This shows in some measure the abiding character of the Lord Jesus Christ. "You remain." Corroding time has no effect on Him... Botanists tell us that cedar wood keeps so well because of its bitter taste, which worms and other destructive organisms do not relish. In the same way, the world does not relish Christ. The world cannot appreciate His value; it cannot taste that He is good.

In His presence, too, we shall find security and shelter. "The beams of our house are cedar, and our rafters fir." The "beams" support the building and make it secure, the rafters support the roof and make it a place of shelter. In the presence of the King we have security and shelter.

In the morning of the day she says, "The King has brought me into His chambers." A little later the scene changes. She is with Him in the fields, where He feeds and rests His flock at noon. Further on in the day, she says, "Our bed is green. The beams of our house are cedar, and our rafters of fir." Here the picture seems to be people reclining on the soft grass, under the refreshing shade of the interlacing boughs of the fir and cedar trees... The love of the Bridegroom, unfolded and shown to her, is the secret of all her joy and the source of all her delights.

But there is one word in these closing sentences that shows full, conscious, happy fellowship with the "well-beloved." I mean that little word "our": "our bed is green … our house," "our rafters." It is like the precious little "us," "we," and "with," in the Letter to the Ephesians. Oh! happy union — blessed unity, "our, us, we, with." Eternal oneness with Christ! One in life, one in righteousness, one in acceptance, one in peace, one in rest, one in joy, one in heavenly, eternal glory!

Many good and learned men have thought that in the first verse we have the voice of the Bridegroom, not of the bride. And many, sadly, have written a great deal, yet were taken up with the flowers more than with the persons. But surely in the second verse the Bridegroom owns the speaker of the first verse as His loved one. He says, "As the lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters." All agree that this is the voice of the Beloved.

The rose in its beauty, the lily in all its hidden perfectness — it is Jesus. The moment those who know Him have Him set before their souls, their hearts go out to Him. What draws them is the thought of all that He has been and is to them.

"I am the rose" — or narcissus, most probably — not exactly the rose... The rose is above all the flower of beauty and fragrance. I do not think that is exactly the language she would use. If He had called her so, I could understand it. But the narcissus is nothing like the rose. So one can understand that she does not pretend to be more than she was. She takes a humble place. It is not in some conspicuous place as yet. She is going to be in the place of glory by and by.

Only a little while ago the bride was confessing, "I am black… black as the tents of Kedar." Now, through grace, she can say — and say truthfully, without doubting — "I am the rose of Sharon, and the lily of the valleys." She is the very crown and ornament of Sharon, the very beauty and sweetness of the valleys. She is not boasting to others about what she is. She is speaking to Him directly, happily conscious of her own place in His heart.

Many say, when they hear such truth, "Oh, I am not worthy of such a place." Quite true, if you speak of your own worthiness. But what place do you think you are worthy of? A lesser one? Is that humility? No, friend, it is pride of heart. We are worthy of no place at all in His presence. So any place there must be pure, sovereign grace.

This shows us beyond question that the lily is His loved one. Compared with the unsaved around her, she is like a lily among thorns. What a contrast between a lily and thorns! But it is all the work of His grace, which has taken poor thorny sinners and turned them into sweet lilies of the valley.

Notice carefully, my soul, that she says, "I am the lily of the valleys" — not of the cities. In the quiet valley she finds her native soil and breathes her native air. There she blooms, for the eye of her Beloved, and gives out her fragrance for His refreshment... It was in the city that she lost the joys of His presence; and there the watchmen insulted her and stripped off her veil. Those were her wandering, backsliding moments.

The lily of the valleys grew in lowly places, out of sight, and the one who valued it had to seek it out. But these were spring flowers, and the fragrant hope of spring was in them. As they bloomed in the valleys they told of a time when the summer's glory would crown the hills. They pictured the beginnings of love. But they also pointed forward to the marriage day, when love would come to its fullness.

Many good and learned men have thought that in the first verse we have the voice of the Bridegroom, not of the bride. But surely in the second verse the Bridegroom owns the speaker in the first verse to be His loved one. Everyone agrees that this second verse is the voice of the Beloved. In the first verse, we have no doubt, the bride is the speaker. In the joy of communion she is acknowledging what He in His grace has made her. All her beauty in His sight, and the affections of her heart for Himself, are His own creation.

But hear the answer that this great lover gives to his chosen bride. He takes up her own words, but he adds to them. He adorns them and makes them glow with his love. He uses them as the opportunity to show her the great proof of his great love for her. So he increases her confidence in him, and enlarges her affection for him.

She is the lily. But in the valley where the lily grows there are thorns, and they serve as a background to bring out the beauty of the lily. In the dark valley of this world there are those who have none of the beauty of Christ upon them. They are thorns for the burning, thorns that would only wound Him. But there are also His own, those in whom Christ can delight, the excellent of the earth, lilies among the thorns. They are Christ's sanctified ones, and He has put His beauty upon them. Their dreary surroundings show off their excellences all the more. To have His lily, Christ had to descend into the valley of the thorns; yes, He must wear the thorns to win His bride.

Dr. Thompson, in his book The Land and the Book, says of this lily: "Our flower likes the valleys best, but it grows on the mountains too. It grows among thorns, and I have sadly torn my hands getting it out of them." Suppose we can say, "I am the lily of the valleys." Suppose we know that we are this to Christ. His answer is, "Yes, but the lily among the thorns." He would have us remember that it cost Him something to secure us for Himself. How torn He was in getting us out of the tangled thorns in which we grew! He showed His hands and His side to His disciples when He came to them in resurrection.

Hear what the Bridegroom says of the earthly bride: "As the lily among thorns" — the gorgeous lily growing in the thorn thickets of Palestine — "so is my love among the daughters." We are taught about the thorn: how it came in, and what its end will be. We were all thorns once. We can take these words for ourselves and say that His grace has transformed us into the lily. Clothed in Christ, the believing soul has that fragrance and beauty before Him. God is the One who does this; it is not the result of their scheming and toil.

Perhaps you say, "If I were only in different surroundings! My surroundings are so difficult." Well, that is just what we get here: a lily among thorns. Why does Christ leave His lily among the sharp thorns? That certainly is no suitable place for a delicate lily, you say. But He leaves it there because that is just where He wants it to be. There it sheds its sweet fragrance all around, in gentle grace and spotless purity.

The bride takes her place, and the bridegroom owns only her. She is the lily, the rest thorns. Jerusalem and Israel are restored under the Messiah, delight in Him, and are sheltered under Him.

The first six verses (leaving out the second) of Canticles 2 seem to me to be the voice of the bride. Notice here that Christ is the apple-tree. In theory she understands her relationship, and speaks mainly of herself; but there is real affection.

"As the apple tree" — or citron tree, rather, the finest of all these trees, which the apple tree might not be.

The King sees excellence in the bride above all the daughters of women. The bride, in return, sees in her beloved the only one among the sons of men in whom she can find rest, and shade, and fruit. So she compares him to the citron tree with its thick shade and rich golden fruit. Many trees of the wood may look grander to the eye of man. In the same way, men value their fellow men above the despised and lowly Jesus. Other trees of the forest may give shelter but yield no fruit. Some may yield fruit but give no shade. This tree alone meets every need. Christ is the true citron tree. Christ is the tree of life. As He passed through this world, to man's eye He was only a root out of dry ground, with no form or beauty. But to the believer that lowly Man is the only one among the sons of men who can give shelter, refreshment and rest in this dry and weary world.

The Christian not only knows that Christ crucified is the way of salvation, but he makes use of it. He comes to Him, he enters in, he sits down in peace, because God provides rest for his sin-burdened conscience. The awakened soul has proved that human remedies are not enough. In the cross of the Son of God he finds everything to remove his guilt, quiet his fears, and fill him with the brightest hope.

But many fail to find this blessed shadow. They search in vain. Day after day they plod on, weary and in pain. They are crushed under the burden of their daily cares. "Seek and you will find," said our Lord. But these fail to find rest because they seek a place, and not a Person. Christ Himself is "the apple-tree." At His feet there is both rest and rapture.

Note, there are five things here. "I sat down" — there you have rest. "Under His shadow" — here is shelter. "With great delight" — this is true joy. "And His fruit" — see how it refreshes and nourishes the soul. "Was sweet to my taste" — not only food to nourish but sweet to the taste, bringing delight as we partake of it.

"His fruit," she adds, "is sweet to my taste." Yes, "His fruit," for she receives from Him; she is not occupied with herself. There is no working under law to make herself fit. The very fact of being where she is — under His shadow — implies her fitness. How could there be "great delight" otherwise? That would be impossible. There would be fear and distrust, and none of that "perfect love" which casts out fear.

Great as these blessings are, they carry in them a measure of relief. Beyond the blessings that bring relief there are others that carry richer, deeper experiences. No thought of relief can enter these — only the infinite enjoyment of His fulness.

In the Song of Songs the bride pictures the faithful few left in Israel, God's earthly people. Even in the middle of all their sorrows God will speak to their hearts and awaken their love. But that strict reading does not stop us applying the Song to the church — the heavenly bride — or to the individual believer. For in God's dealing with all His people there are principles in common.

It is the millennial feast for Israel (see Isa. 25:6-8), and for the church, it is the eternal feast with Him on high... But leave the future aside. There is also a very practical and real sense in which this is true of the believer now. Like the prodigal, he has returned to his Father's house, and his Father has seated him at the feast spread there (Luke 15). A feast that begins on earth but never ends.

Let faith spread her golden wings and soar upward, rejoicing in those precious words, "He brought me." He Himself is the doer of it... He would lead us to His house of wine, the wine of joy and gladness. His own heart would open, and He would rejoice over us with singing.

Wrapped in the spotless robe of God's righteousness, I take my place as no unwelcome guest at the banqueting table of love. The arms of love, from which nothing can ever separate me, enclose me in their embrace. The kiss of reconciliation and peace is on my brow; and the blood gives me my title to it all.

But great as these blessings are, they carry a measure of relief in them. Beyond the blessings that bring relief there are others with richer, deeper experiences in them. No thought of relief can enter these — only the infinite enjoyment of His fullness. Experiences which answer to the house of wine and the banner of love.

The poor clay kings of this world wade to their thrones through the blood of millions of their fellow men. His victory is not like theirs. This mighty Conqueror wins His victory by shedding His own blood, by Himself becoming the Victim. And having gained His victory He unfurls His banner, and His banner is love. Love made Him the willing victim... no nails made by man could hold the Christ of God on the cross. Love held Him there — love that many waters could not quench and floods could not drown.

The banner, or flag, stands for all the power of the king or nation it represents. All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to Him (Matt. 28:18). How blessed to be under His banner of love, a banner that speaks of all His mighty power unfurled over us. No power on earth or in hell beneath can trouble us there... No fears to alarm, no dread of the enemy coming in to disturb.

Your trials and difficulties are from the hand of a Father, who deals with you in love, as with His child. He is drawing you nearer to Himself. You must nestle all the closer to the side of Jesus... Have things turned out otherwise than you had looked or hoped for? Still, "His banner over you is love."... What a thought to rest on! What a pillow on which to sleep or die!

Sometimes we say, I am sick of it, meaning that we don't want anything more to do with it. But here the meaning is just the opposite. She feasts under His banner of love on the good things He has prepared for her. Her heart overflows. Her love for Him burns with such an eager flame that she is sick with love. Only one thing can hold her up now, and sustain, refresh and comfort her: the flagons of wine, or raisin cakes, and the apples from His banqueting table. Remember that He Himself is the apple tree (see v. 3). Then we can understand that the apples are the sweet fruits of His love for us. The wine, or raisin, is the symbol of fellowship and the joy that flows from it... When someone truly loves Him, a break in his communion with Him makes him sick and miserable. So does failing to feast on the good things His love has provided for us.

The ecstasy of the house of wine is more than the Bride can sustain. There are spiritual experiences too deep for these weak vessels of clay. Was it not like this for the Apostle when he was caught up into the third heaven? He heard unspeakable words, not possible to utter. Such experiences may seldom be the common lot of the Christian life. But at times the Lord gives His people such an overwhelming sense of His love that we have to cry out. A dying saint once used words like these: "Lord, hold Your hand; it is enough, Your servant is a clay vessel and can hold no more."

Feeding on Christ never satiates the soul. While it satisfies to the full, it whets the appetite. And the Lord's delight is to give more abundantly. "Open your mouth wide, and I will fill it." He alone can satisfy the desires of the heart and of the mind.

Nothing can make up for lack of fellowship with the Lord and daily feeding upon Him and His Word. It is the only thing that can sustain us in our daily life for Him, and keep our souls refreshed. In the hurry and flurry of our daily lives, we must always be on our guard lest we lose contact with Him. It is so easy to let the busy activities of the day crowd out our communion with Him.

Clearly the Song of Songs reveals the mutual affection between the Messiah and the Israel of God as no other book does. And this will taste sweeter to the people of God when the Holy Spirit brings them to judge their once wandering affections... But her restoration to the Messiah will be all the deeper when she discovers His faithful love, despite her shameless unfaithfulness to such a lover.

The first six verses (leaving out the second) of Song of Solomon 2 seem to me to be the voice of the bride. Others have understood them differently, but I think they are wrong. In theory she grasps her relationship, and speaks mostly of herself; but there is real affection.

Yet these words do not mean that He had come. It is simply the love and grace He had shown her. It is her sense of His love to her even now, though she still longed for everything to be as His word had said.

This is the answer to the bride's call for sustaining power. The banner of love is over her, and the arms of love are around her. She has attained the longing of her heart expressed in the opening of the canticle. She has reached the assurance and enjoyment of the Bridegroom's love. How happy when the saint finds every longing of the renewed nature satisfied by the love of Christ.

What a blessed place of rest and peace, drawn so close to Him in His tender embrace. "His left hand is under my head." The heart is on the left side. The left hand is the hand nearest His heart. She pillows her weary head in His left hand. The tender, loving touch of that hand — the hand pierced for her — soothes her... And then, "His right hand embraces me." The right hand is the hand we do things with. It is the symbol of power. "Your right hand, O LORD, glorious in power, your right hand, O LORD, shatters the enemy" (Ex. 15:6)... He throws His mighty right arm around her, to hold her up and draw her closer to Himself. And what protection! With His powerful arm around her, no enemy can trouble her, no harm can reach her.

To faith, blessed be His name, He is ever present. "His left hand is under my head, and his right hand embraces me." This is faith. It can lean upon His bosom. It can rest in His embrace at night, and go out with Him in the morning to the vineyards... Still, personally, He is not here. He is in heaven, we are on earth. Do you know these distinctions well, my soul? And say, is it not while resting by faith in Him that your heart longs most for His coming? Then He will take you up to be with Himself in glory.

The banner of His love over her, the everlasting arms underneath her, she rests in His eternal embrace. She delights in what He is. So she speaks of His shadow, His fruit, His banquet, His banner, His left hand, His right hand. It is all, it is only, Christ. When the soul is occupied with Him like this, He of all others is the most careful that it should not be disturbed.

This is real rest. Our head rests on His loving hand, the hand pierced for us. His mighty right hand embraces us, draws us close to Himself, and shields us from all alarm. Is not this the real desire of every born-again soul? But sadly we must admit that it is often, as here, more the desire of our hearts than the actual experience of our lives. How may it become more of a reality in our life?... "Who is that coming up from the wilderness, leaning on her beloved?" That is the secret — leaning on the Beloved, leaning hard, leaning all the time.

She has reached the assurance and enjoyment of the Bridegroom's love. How happy when the saint finds every longing of the renewed nature satisfied by the love of Christ.

The slightest movement would disturb the timid and sensitive roe or hind of the field. With the banner of love over her, and the arms of love around her, the bride dreads the slightest intrusion that would mar the enjoyment of love. And the believer who enjoys the love of Christ may well dread any intrusion that would break or spoil that close love between him and his Saviour.

The Hebrew reads, "till it pleases." So the context must decide who is speaking, and whether He or she is sleeping. "Behold, he who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep" (Ps. 121:4). So it is certainly not the Lord who is asleep here, but His beloved one, sleeping peacefully in His embrace. He holds her lovingly in His arms, and He watches that nothing disturbs her rest.

She delights in what He is… It is all, it is only, Christ. When the soul is occupied with Him in this way, He of all others is the most careful that it should not be disturbed. The roes and the hinds are the most easily startled creatures in the field. And their sense of hearing is so acute, that a far distant sound of danger will alarm them. We should all be just as sensitive to the faintest approach of anything that would interfere with our walk and communion with the Lord.

Love must be a spontaneous thing, or it is not love at all… The roe, or gazelle, is the very picture of timid sensitivity. The hind climbs surefooted to heights above the common level, and tells the same story of avoiding danger. We cannot produce love in our own hearts by stirring them up. This will fail, for our hearts are no fountain of love at all. We must look elsewhere: "we love because He first loved us." Receiving the love of God is the only source of love toward God or toward others.

This charge appears several times in the song. I think it is the perfect answer to those who suppose the song is just many little songs put together with no order. Not so. There is perfect order, and not only continuity but progress. This charge is given three times… She is waiting for the relationship to be settled.

Each time this charge sounds, the coming of the Lord follows at once. In chapter 2:7, it is the revelation of Himself. "The voice of my beloved! Behold, he comes." It is Himself, personally, that is here thought of. In Cant. 3:5, it is the Messiah coming in royal procession… In chapter 8:4, the bride leaves the wilderness united to Him.