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

Take me away with you. Let us hurry. The king has brought me into his chambers. We will be glad and rejoice in you. We will praise your love more than wine. They are right to love you.

Do not stare at me because I am dark, because the sun has scorched me. My mother's sons were angry with me. They made me keeper of the vineyards. I haven't kept my own vineyard.

Tell me, you whom my soul loves, where you graze your flock, where you rest them at noon; For why should I be as one who is veiled beside the flocks of your companions?

I have compared you, my love, to a steed in Pharaoh's chariots.

While the king sat at his table, my perfume spread its fragrance.

My beloved is to me a sachet of myrrh, that lies between my breasts.

My beloved is to me a cluster of henna blossoms from the vineyards of En Gedi.

Behold, you are beautiful, my love. Behold, you are beautiful. Your eyes are doves.

Behold, you are beautiful, my beloved, yes, pleasant; and our couch is verdant.

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

As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, his fruit was sweet to my taste.

He brought me to the banquet hall, and his banner over me was love.

Strengthen me with raisins, refresh me with apples; For I am faint with love.

His left hand is under my head. His right hand embraces me.

The voice of my beloved. Behold, he comes, leaping on the mountains, skipping on the hills.

My beloved is like a roe or a young hart. Behold, he stands behind our wall. He looks in at the windows. He glances through the lattice.

My beloved spoke, and said to me, "Rise up, my love, my beautiful one, and come away.

The fig tree ripens her green figs. The vines are in blossom. They give forth their fragrance. Arise, my love, my beautiful one, and come away."

My dove in the clefts of the rock, In the hiding places of the mountainside, Let me see your face. Let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely.

My beloved is mine, and I am his. He browses among the lilies.

Until the day is cool, and the shadows flee away, turn, my beloved, and be like a gazelle or a young stag on the mountains of Bether.

By night on my bed, I sought him whom my soul loves. I sought him, but I did not find him.

I will get up now, and go about the city; in the streets and in the squares I will seek him whom my soul loves. I sought him, but I did not find him.

The watchmen who go about the city found me; "Have you seen him whom my soul loves?"

I had scarcely passed from them, when I found him whom my soul loves. I held him, and would not let him go, until I had brought him into my mother's house, into the chamber of her who conceived me.

Behold, you are beautiful, my love. Behold, you are beautiful. Your eyes are doves behind your veil. Your hair is as a flock of goats, that descend from Mount Gilead.

You are all beautiful, my love. There is no spot in you.

Come with me from Lebanon, my bride, with me from Lebanon. Look from the top of Amana, from the top of Senir and Hermon, from the lions' dens, from the mountains of the leopards.

You have ravished my heart, my sister, my bride. You have ravished my heart with one of your eyes, with one chain of your neck.

How beautiful is your love, my sister, my bride. How much better is your love than wine. The fragrance of your perfumes than all manner of spices.

Your lips, my bride, drip like the honeycomb. Honey and milk are under your tongue. The smell of your garments is like the smell of Lebanon.

A locked up garden is my sister, my bride; a locked up spring, a sealed fountain.

Awake, north wind; and come, you south. Blow on my garden, that its spices may flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden, and taste his precious fruits.

I have come into my garden, my sister, my bride. 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, friends. Drink, yes, drink abundantly, beloved.

I was asleep, but my heart was awake. It is the voice of my beloved who knocks: "Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled; for my head is filled with dew, and my hair with the dampness of the night."

I have taken off my robe. Indeed, must I put it on? I have washed my feet. Indeed, must I soil them?

My beloved thrust his hand in through the latch opening. My heart pounded for him.

I rose up to open for my beloved. My hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with liquid myrrh, on the handles of the lock.

I opened to my beloved; but my beloved left; and had gone away. My heart went out when he spoke. I looked for him, but I did not find him. I called him, but he did not answer.

The watchmen who go about the city found me. They beat me. They bruised me. The keepers of the walls took my cloak away from me.

I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem, If you find my beloved, that you tell him that I am faint with love.

My beloved is white and ruddy. The best among ten thousand.

His mouth is sweetness; yes, he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, and this is my friend, daughters of Jerusalem.

Where has your beloved gone, you fairest among women? Where has your beloved turned, that we may seek him with you?

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

I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine. He browses among the lilies,

You are beautiful, my love, as Tirzah, lovely as Jerusalem, awesome as an army with banners.

Turn away your eyes from me, for they have overcome me. Your hair is like a flock of goats, that lie along the side of Gilead.

My dove, my perfect one, is unique. She is her mother's only daughter. She is the favorite one of her who bore her. The daughters saw her, and called her blessed; the queens and the concubines, and they praised her.

Without realizing it, my desire set me with my royal people's chariots.

Return, return, Shulammite. Return, return, that we may gaze at you. Why do you desire to gaze at the Shulammite, as at the dance of Mahanaim?

Your mouth like the best wine, that goes down smoothly for my beloved, gliding through the lips of those who are asleep.

I am my beloved's. His desire is toward me.

Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the field. Let us lodge in the villages.

Let's go early up to the vineyards. Let's see whether the vine has budded, its blossom is open, and the pomegranates are in flower. There I will give you my love.

The mandrakes give forth fragrance. At our doors are all kinds of precious fruits, new and old, which I have stored up for you, my beloved.

Oh that you were like my brother, who sucked the breasts of my mother. If I found you outside, I would kiss you; yes, and no one would despise me.

I would lead you, bringing you into my mother's house, who would instruct me. I would have you drink spiced wine, of the juice of my pomegranate.

His left hand would be under my head. His right hand would embrace me.

Set me as a seal on your heart, as a seal on your arm; for love is strong as death. Jealousy is as cruel as Sheol. Its flashes are flashes of fire, a very flame of the LORD.

I am a wall, and my breasts like towers, then I was in his eyes like one who found peace.

My own vineyard is before me. The thousand are for you, Solomon; two hundred for those who tend its fruit.

You who dwell in the gardens, with friends in attendance, let me hear your voice.

Come away, my beloved. Be like a gazelle or a young stag on the mountains of spices.