Song of Solomon 2:1

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.