Behold, my brethren, which around
To these my psalms of praise attend,
How good a doctrine, and how sound,
And in what bliss it need must end;
To dwell together in the Lord
Like-minded, and of one accord.

'Tis like the precious fragrant cruse
When pour'd upon the hoary head,
Which ran upon the beard profuse,
Ev'n Aaron's beard where it was shed;
And thence descending from his breast,
It reach'd the border of his vest.

'Tis like the blessed honey-dew
Which first fair Hermon's cedars fill'd,
And thence with its etherial glue
On Zion's mount the sweets distill'd;
So that all orders and degrees
Might take the balmy prize with ease.

For in that heav'n-directed show'r
God deign'd a further bliss to send,
And promis'd Israel to embow'r
In glorious mansions without end;
Eternal life—immense reward,
And that thro' Jesus Christ our Lord.