Solomon's Most Excellent Love Song.

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

Thine oils have a goodly fragrance; Thy name is as oil 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 make mention of thy love more than of wine: Rightly do they love thee.

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?

I have compared thee, O my love, To a steed in Pharaoh's chariots.

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

My love is to me as a branch of the cypress-tree in the vine-gardens of En-gedi.

Behold, thou art fair, my love; Behold thou art fair; Thine eyes are as doves.

W How handsome you are, my love.
How delightful!
Our bed is lush with foliage;

As a 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 ye me with raisins, refresh me with apples; For I am sick from love.

I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, By the roes, or by the hinds of the field, That ye stir not up, nor awake my love, Until 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 ripeneth her green figs, And the vines are in blossom; They give forth their fragrance. 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.

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By night on my bed I was looking for him who is the love of my soul: I was looking for him, but I did not see him.

I will get up now and go about the town, in the streets and in the wide ways I will go after him who is the love of my soul: I went after him, but I did not see him.

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

I was but a little way from them, when I came face to face with him who is the love of my soul. I took him by the hands, and did not let him go, till I had taken him into my mother's house, and into the room of her who gave me birth.

I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, By the roes, or by the hinds of the field, That ye stir not up, nor awake my love, Until he please.

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

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

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

How fair is thy love, my sister, my bride! How much better is thy love than wine! And the fragrance of thine oils than all manner of 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.

>

I have come into my garden, my sister, my bride; to take my myrrh with my spice; my wax with my honey; my wine with my milk. Take meat, O friends; take wine, yes, be overcome with love.

I slept, but my heart was awake. The voice of my beloved! he knocketh: Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, mine undefiled; For my head is filled with dew, 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, daughters of Jerusalem, If ye find my beloved, ... What will 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 fair, my love, as Tirzah, Comely as Jerusalem, Terrible as troops with banners:

How fair and how pleasant art thou, my love, in 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, daughters of Jerusalem, ... Why should ye stir up, why awake my love, till he please?

Set me as a seal upon thy heart, As a seal upon thine arm: For love is strong as death; Jealousy is cruel as Sheol: The flashes thereof are flashes of fire, Flames of Jah.

Many waters cannot quench love, Neither do the floods drown it: Even if a man gave all the substance of his house for love, It would utterly be contemned.

W Hurry to me, my love,
and be like a gazelle
or a young stag
on the mountains of spices.