My head is filled with dew, and my locks with the drops of the night.@Song of Solomon 5:2
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Fanny Crosby (1820-1915)

Fanny Crosby, in Dew Drops of Sacred Song, by Tullius C. O’Kane (New York, Cincinnati, Chicago & St. Louis: Philip Phillips/Hitchcock & Walden, 1870), number 14.

Gary Philip Phillips (🔊 pdf nwc).

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Philip Phillips (1834-1895)

Behold where He stands at the door of thy heart,
O sinner, awake ere thy Savior depart;
He calls thee in mercy from darkness to light,
His locks are all wet with the dew of the night;
Long, long He has tarried, and wilt thou refuse
The pathway of life and salvation to choose?

On Jesus thy sins and transgressions are laid,
Remember the garden, where lonely He prayed;
While stars at His anguish withdrew their pale light,
His locks were all wet with the dew of the night;
A lamb to the slaughter, the Savior was led,
He suffered in meekness, He languished and bled.

Reject Him no longer, admit Him, thy guest,
To bring thee redemption, to offer thee rest;
He comes from the mansions of glory so bright,
His locks are all wet with the dew of the night;
Oh, wash in the fountain, still flowing for thee,
Whose waters are boundless, eternal, and free.