2 For thy love is more pleasant than wine, 3 and that because of the good and pleasant savour. Thy name is sweet smelling ointment when it is shed forth; therefore do the maidens love thee. 4 Draw thou me unto thee; we will run after thee. The king hath brought me into his privy chamber: We will be glad and rejoice in thee, we think more of thy love than of wine. They that be righteous love thee.
5 I am black, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, like as the tents of the Kedarenes, and as the hangings of Solomon: but yet am I fair and well favored withal. 6 Marvel not at me that I am so black: For why? The sun hath shined upon me. My mother's children had evil will at me, they made me the keeper of the vineyards; but mine own vineyard have I not kept.
7 Tell me, O thou whom my soul loveth, where thou feedest the sheep, where thou maketh the rest at the noon day: for why shall I be like him that goeth wrong about the flocks of thy companions?
8 If thou know not thyself, O thou fairest among women, then go thy way forth after the footsteps of the sheep, and feed thy goats beside the shepherds' tents.
9 There will I tarry for thee, my love, with mine host and with my chariots, which shall be no fewer than Pharaoh's. 10 Then shall thy cheeks and thy neck be made fair, and hanged with spangles and goodly jewels: 11 a neck band of gold will we make thee with silver buttons.
12 When the king sitteth at the table, he shall smell my Nardus: 13 for a bundle of Myrrh is my love unto me; he will lie betwixt my breasts. 14 A cluster of Camphire in the vineyards of Engedi art thou unto me, O my beloved.