Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth; For thy love is better than wine.

Thine ointments savour sweetly; Thy name is an ointment poured forth: Therefore do the virgins love thee.

Draw me, we will run after thee! The king hath brought me into his chambers We will be glad and rejoice in thee, We will remember thy love more than wine. They love thee uprightly.

Look not upon me, because I am black; Because the sun hath looked upon me. My mother's children were angry with me: They made me keeper of the vineyards; Mine own vineyard have I not kept.

Tell me, thou whom my soul loveth, Where thou feedest thy flock, Where thou makest it to rest at noon; For why should I be as one veiled Beside the flocks of thy companions?

I compare thee, my love, To a steed in Pharaoh's chariots.

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

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.

He hath brought me to the house of wine, And his banner over me is love.

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.

The flowers appear on the earth; The time of singing is come, And the voice of the turtle-dove is heard in our land;

The fig-tree melloweth her winter figs, And the vines in bloom give forth their fragrance. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away!

My dove, in the clefts of the rock, In the covert of the precipice, Let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy voice; For sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely.

Take us the foxes, The little foxes, that spoil the vineyards; For our vineyards are in bloom.

On my bed, in the nights, I sought him whom my soul loveth: I sought him, but I found him not.

I will rise now, and go about the city; In the streets and in the broadways Will I seek him whom my soul loveth: I sought him, but I found him not.

Scarcely had I passed from them, When I found him whom my soul loveth: I held him, and would not let him go, Until I had brought him into my mother's house, And into the chamber of her that conceived me.

Behold his couch, Solomon's own: Threescore mighty men are about it, Of the mighty of Israel.

They all hold the sword, Experts in war; Each hath his sword upon his thigh Because of alarm in the nights.

Go forth, daughters of Zion, And behold king Solomon With the crown wherewith his mother crowned him In the day of his espousals, And in the day of the gladness of his heart.

Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; Thine eyes are doves behind thy veil; Thy hair is as a flock of goats, On the slopes of mount Gilead.

Thy neck is like the tower of David, Built for an armoury: A thousand bucklers hang thereon, All shields of mighty men.

Thou art all fair, my love; And there is no spot in thee.

Thou hast ravished my heart, my sister, my spouse; Thou hast ravished my heart with one of thine eyes, With one chain of thy neck.

How fair is thy love, my sister, my spouse! How much better is thy love than wine! And the fragrance of thine ointments than all spices!

A fountain in the gardens, A well of living waters, Which stream from Lebanon.

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 have put off my tunic, how should I put it on? I have washed my feet, how should I pollute them? --

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

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.

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

Turn away thine eyes from me, For they overcome me. Thy hair is as a flock of goats On the slopes of Gilead.

My dove, mine undefiled, is but one; She is the only one of her mother, She is the choice one of her that bore her. The daughters saw her, and they called her blessed; The queens and the concubines, and they praised her.

Return, return, O Shulamite; Return, return, that we may look upon thee. What would ye look upon in the Shulamite? As it were the dance of two camps.

How beautiful are thy footsteps in sandals, O prince's daughter! The roundings of thy thighs are like jewels, The work of the hands of an artist.

Thy navel is a round goblet, which wanteth not mixed wine; Thy belly a heap of wheat, set about with lilies;

Thy neck is as a tower of ivory; Thine eyes, like the pools in Heshbon, By the gate of Bath-rabbim; Thy nose like the tower of Lebanon, Which looketh toward Damascus;

How fair and how pleasant art thou, my love, in delights!

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.

We will go up early to the vineyards, We will see if the vine hath budded, If the blossom is opening, And the pomegranates are in bloom: There will I give thee my loves.

I would lead thee, bring thee into my mother's house; Thou wouldest instruct me: I would cause thee to drink of spiced wine, Of the juice of my pomegranate.

We have a little sister, And she hath no breasts: What shall we do for our sister In the day when she shall be spoken for? --

I am a wall, and my breasts like towers; Then was I in his eyes as one that findeth peace.

Solomon had a vineyard at Baal-hamon: He let out the vineyard unto keepers; Every one for the fruit thereof was to bring a thousand silver-pieces.

Thou that dwellest in the gardens, The companions hearken to thy voice: Let me hear it.