Thine oils have a goodly fragrance; Thy name is as oil poured forth; Therefore do the virgins love thee.

Draw me: after thee we run, The king hath brought me into his inner chambers, We do joy and rejoice in thee, We mention thy loves more than wine, Uprightly they have loved thee!

SHEDo not look on me, because, I, am so swarthy, because the sun hath scorched me, - My mother's sons, were angry with me, they set me to keep the vineyards, Mine own vineyard, have I not kept. --

Say, O love of my soul, where you give food to your flock, and where you make them take their rest in the heat of the day; why have I to be as one wandering by the flocks of your friends?

If you have not knowledge, O most beautiful among women, go on your way in the footsteps of the flock, and give your young goats food by the tents of the keepers.

To a mare of mine, in the chariots of Pharaoh, have I likened thee, my fair one!

Comely have been thy cheeks with garlands, Thy neck with chains.

SHEBy the time the king is in his circle, my nard, will have given out its fragrance:

See, you are fair, my love, you are fair; you have the eyes of a dove.

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.

I have adjured you, daughters of Jerusalem, By the roes or by the hinds of the field, Stir not up nor wake the love till she please!

The flowers, have appeared in the earth, the time of the spring-song, hath come, - and, the voice of the turtle, is heard in our land;

‘The fig tree has ripened its figs,
And the vines in blossom have given forth their fragrance.
Arise, my darling, my beautiful one,
And come along!’”

Take for us the foxes, the little foxes, which do damage to the vines; our vines have young grapes.

Till the day doth break forth, And the shadows have fled away, Turn, be like, my beloved, To a roe, or to a young one of the harts, On the mountains of separation!

The watchmen that go round in the city, found me, The beloved of my soul, have ye seen?

So when I was a little past them, I found him whom my soul loveth. I have gotten hold upon him, and will not let him go, until I bring him into my mother's house, and in to her chamber that bare me.

I have adjured you, daughters of Jerusalem, By the roes or by the hinds of the field, Stir not up nor wake the love till she please!

See, you are fair, my love, you are fair; you have the eyes of a dove; your hair is as a flock of goats, which take their rest on the side of Gilead.

Thy teeth, are like a flock, evenly grown, which have come up from the washing-place, - whereof, all of them, are twin-bearers, and bereaved, is none among them:

Till the day doth break forth, And the shadows have fled away, I will get me unto the mountain of myrrh, And unto the hill of frankincense.

You have taken away my heart, my sister, my bride; you have taken away my heart, with one look you have taken it, with one chain of your neck!

How wonderful have been thy loves, my sister-spouse, How much better have been thy loves than wine, And the fragrance of thy perfumes than all spices.

(The Shulammite Bride)
“Awake, O north wind,
And come, south wind [blow softly upon my garden];
Make my garden breathe out fragrance, [for the one in whom my soul delights],
Let its spices flow forth.
Let my beloved come into his garden
And eat its choicest fruits.” Cross references: Song of Solomon 4:7 : John 14:18; Eph 5:27 Song of Solomon 4:8 : 2 Cor 11:2, 3 Song of Solomon 4:10 : John 15:9; Rom 8:35 Song of Solomon 4:13 : John 15:5; Eph 5:9 Song of Solomon 4:15 : John 4:10; 7:37, 38 end of crossrefs

HEI have entered my garden, my sister, bride, I have plucked my myrrh, with my balsam, I have eaten the honey of my thicket, I have drunk my wine, with my milk: - Eat ye, O friends, Drink, yea drink abundantly, ye beloved!

I have put off my tunic, oh how shall I put it on? I have bathed my feet, oh how shall I soil them?

I have adjured you, daughters of Jerusalem, If ye find my beloved -- What do ye tell him? that I am sick with love!

Turn away thine eyes from me, for, they, have excited me, - Thy hair, is like a flock of goats, that are reclining on the sides of Mount Gilead:

Thy teeth, are like a flock of sheep which have come up from the washing-place, - whereof, all of them, are twin-bearers, and bereaved, is there none among them:

One alone, is my dove, my perfect one, one alone, was she to her mother, Pure, was she to her that bare her, - The daughters, have seen her, and pronounced her happy, Queens and concubines, and they have praised her.

I went down to the orchard of the walnut trees to look at the blossoms of the valley, to see [whether] the vine have sprouted, [whether] the pomegranates have blossomed.

Turn again, turn again, O thou Shulamite; turn again, turn again, that we may look upon thee. What pleasure have ye more in the Shulamite, than when she danceth among the men of war?

and thy throat like the best wine. This shall be pure and clear for my love, his lips and teeth shall have their pleasure.

Let us get up early to the vineyards, Let us see whether the vine, hath burst forth, the blossom, hath opened, the pomegranates, have bloomed, - There, will I give my caresses to thee.

The love-apples, have given fragrance, and, at our openings, are all precious things, new and yet old, - O my beloved! I have treasured them up for thee.

Oh that thou hadst been a very brother to me, who had sucked the breasts of my own mother, - Had I found thee without, I had kissed thee, Yea, folk would not have despised me!

I would have guided thee - brought thee into the house of my mother, Thou wouldst have instructed me, - I would have let thee drink of spiced wine, of the pressed-out juice of my pomegranate.

I have adjured you, daughters of Jerusalem, How ye stir up, And how ye wake the love till she please!

Who is this coming from the wilderness, Hasting herself for her beloved? Under the citron-tree I have waked thee, There did thy mother pledge thee, There she gave a pledge that bare thee.

THEYA sister, have we, a little one, and, breasts, hath she none, What shall we do for our sister, in the day when she may be spoken for?

I am a wall, and my breasts as towers, Then I have been in his eyes as one finding peace.

My vineyard, which is mine, is before me: Thou, O Solomon, shalt have the thousand, And those that keep the fruit thereof two hundred.

You who have your resting-place in the gardens, the friends give ear to your voice; make me give ear to it.