Solomon's Most Excellent Love Song.

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

Because of the savour of thy good ointments thy name is as 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: the upright love thee.

Tell me, you, the one I love:
Where do you pasture your sheep?
Where do you let them rest at noon?
Why should I be like one who veils herself
beside the flocks of your companions?

I have compared thee, O my love, to a company of horses in Pharaoh's chariots.

My love is a sachet of myrrh to me,
spending the night between my breasts.

My love is a cluster of henna blossoms to me,
in the vineyards of En-gedi.

Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; thou hast doves' eyes.

Lo, thou art fair, my love, yea, pleasant, Yea, our couch is green,

As the lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters.

W Like an apricot tree among the trees of the forest,
so is my love among the young men.
I delight to sit in his shade,
and his fruit is sweet to my taste.

He brought me to the banqueting house, and his banner over me was love.

Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples: for I am sick of love.

I charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and by the hinds of the field, that ye stir not up, nor awake my love, till he please.

Listen! My love is approaching.
Look! Here he comes,
leaping over the mountains,
bounding over the hills.

My love is like a gazelle
or a young stag.
Look, he is standing behind our wall,
gazing through the windows,
peering through the lattice.

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

The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.

Up, haste my love, my dove, in the holes of the rock and secret places of the walls. Show me thy face and let me hear thy voice: for thy voice is sweet and thy fashion beautiful.

(The Chorus)
“Catch the foxes for us,
The little foxes that spoil and ruin the vineyards [of love],
While our vineyards are in blossom.”

W My love is mine and I am his;
he feeds among the lilies.

Before the day breaks
and the shadows flee,
turn to me, my love, and be like a gazelle
or a young stag on the divided mountains.

>

(The Shulammite Bride)“On my bed night after night [I dreamed that] I sought the one
Whom my soul loves;
I sought him but did not find him.

I will arise now and go about the city,
through the streets and the plazas.
I will seek the one I love.
I sought him, but did not find him.

The guards who go about the city found me.
I asked them, “Have you seen the one I love?”

I had just passed them
when I found the one I love.
I held on to him and would not let him go
until I brought him to my mother’s house—
to the chamber of the one who conceived me.

I charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and by the hinds of the field, that ye stir not up, nor awake my love, till he please.

He made the pillars thereof of silver, the bottom thereof of gold, the covering of it of purple, the midst thereof being paved with love, for the daughters of Jerusalem.

Come out, O maidens of Zion, and gaze upon King Solomon! He is wearing the crown with which his mother crowned him on his wedding day, on the most joyous day of his life!

Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; thou hast doves' eyes within thy locks: thy hair is as a flock of goats, that appear from mount Gilead.

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

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

W Awaken, north wind—
come, south wind.
Blow on my garden,
and spread the fragrance of its spices.
Let my love come to his garden
and eat its choicest fruits.

>

(The Bridegroom)“I have come into my garden, my sister, my [promised] bride;
I have gathered my myrrh along with my balsam and spice [from your sweet words].
I have eaten my honeycomb with my honey;
I have drunk my wine with my milk.
Eat, friends;
Drink and drink deeply, O lovers.”

I sleep, but my heart waketh: it is the voice of my beloved that knocketh, saying, Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled: for my head is filled with dew, and my locks with the drops of the night.

My love thrust his hand through the opening,
and my feelings were stirred for him.

I rose to open for my love.
My hands dripped with myrrh,
my fingers with flowing myrrh
on the handles of the bolt.

I opened to my love,
but my love had turned and gone away.
I was crushed that he had left.
I sought him, but did not find him.
I called him, but he did not answer.

I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find my beloved, that ye tell him, that I am sick of love.

Y What makes the one you love better than another,
most beautiful of women?
What makes him better than another,
that you would give us this charge?

W My love is fit and strong,
notable among ten thousand.

His mouth is sweetness.
He is absolutely desirable.
This is my love, and this is my friend,
young women of Jerusalem.

>

Y Where has your love gone,
most beautiful of women?
Which way has he turned?
We will seek him with you.

W My love has gone down to his garden,
to beds of spice,
to feed in the gardens
and gather lilies.

I am my love’s and my love is mine;
he feeds among the lilies.

Thou art beautiful, O my love, as Tirzah, comely as Jerusalem, terrible as an army with banners.

How fair and how pleasant art thou, O love, for delights!

Your mouth is like fine wine—

W flowing smoothly for my love,
gliding past my lips and teeth!

I belong to my love,
and his desire is for me.

Come, my love,
let’s go to the field;
let’s spend the night among the henna blossoms.

Let us get up early to the vineyards; Let us see whether the vine hath budded, And its blossom is open, And the pomegranates are in flower: There will I give thee my love.

The mandrakes give off a fragrance,
and at our doors is every delicacy—
new as well as old.
I have treasured them up for you, my love.

>

O that I might find thee without, and kiss thee, whom I love as my brother which sucked my mother's breasts: and that thou wouldest not be offended,

I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, that ye stir not up, nor awake my love, until he please.

Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm: for love is strong as death; jealousy is cruel as the grave: the coals thereof are coals of fire, which hath a most vehement flame.

Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it: if a man would give all the substance of his house for love, it would utterly be contemned.

(The Shulammite Bride)
“Hurry, my beloved and come quickly,
Like a gazelle or a young stag [taking me home]
On the mountains of spices.”