'Beloved' in the Bible

A bundle of myrrh is my beloved unto me; He shall pass the night between my breasts.

My beloved is unto me a cluster of henna-flowers In the vineyards of Engedi.

Behold, thou art fair, my beloved, yea, pleasant; Also our bed is green.

As the apple-tree among the trees of the wood, So is my beloved among the sons: In his shadow have I rapture and sit down; And his fruit is sweet to my taste.

The voice of my beloved! Behold, he cometh Leaping upon the mountains, Skipping upon the hills.

My beloved is like a gazelle or a young hart. Behold, he standeth behind our wall, He looketh in through the windows, Glancing through the lattice.

My beloved spake and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.

My beloved is mine, and I am his; He feedeth his flock among the lilies,

Until the day dawn, and the shadows flee away. Turn, my beloved: be thou like a gazelle or a young hart, Upon the mountains of Bether.

Awake, north wind, and come, thou south; Blow upon my garden, that the spices thereof may flow forth. Let my beloved come into his garden, And eat its precious fruits.

I am come into my garden, my sister, my spouse; I have gathered my myrrh with my spice; I have eaten my honeycomb with my honey; I have drunk my wine with my milk. Eat, O friends; drink, yea, drink abundantly, beloved ones!

I slept, but my heart was awake. The voice of my beloved! he knocketh: Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, mine undefiled; For my head is filled with dew, My locks with the drops of the night.

My beloved put in his hand by the hole of the door; And my bowels yearned for him.

I rose up to open to my beloved; And my hands dropped with myrrh, And my fingers with liquid myrrh, Upon the handles of the lock.

I opened to my beloved; But my beloved had withdrawn himself; he was gone: My soul went forth when he spoke. I sought him, but I found him not; I called him, but he gave me no answer.

I charge you, daughters of Jerusalem, If ye find my beloved, ... What will ye tell him? That I am sick of love.

What is thy beloved more than another beloved, Thou fairest among women? What is thy beloved more than another beloved, That thou dost so charge us?

My beloved is white and ruddy, The chiefest among ten thousand.

His mouth is most sweet: Yea, he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, yea, this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.

Whither is thy beloved gone, Thou fairest among women? Whither is thy beloved turned aside? And we will seek him with thee.

My beloved is gone down into his garden, to the beds of spices, To feed in the gardens and to gather lilies.

I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine: He feedeth his flock among the lilies.

And the roof of thy mouth like the best wine, ... That goeth down smoothly for my beloved, And stealeth over the lips of them that are asleep.

Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the fields; Let us lodge in the villages.

The mandrakes yield fragrance; And at our gates are all choice fruits, new and old: I have laid them up for thee, my beloved.

Who is this that cometh up from the wilderness, Leaning upon her beloved? I awoke thee under the apple-tree: There thy mother brought thee forth; There she brought thee forth that bore thee.

Haste, my beloved, And be thou like a gazelle or a young hart Upon the mountains of spices.