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.

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 watchmen that go about the city found me: Have ye seen him whom my soul loveth?

Thy teeth are like a flock of shorn sheep, Which go up from the washing; Which have all borne twins, And none is barren among them.

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? --

Thy teeth are like a flock of sheep Which go up from the washing; Which have all borne twins, And none is barren among them.

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

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? --