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. They love thee uprightly.

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 fig-tree melloweth her winter figs, And the vines in bloom give forth their fragrance. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away!

Thy neck is like the tower of David, Built for an armoury: A thousand bucklers hang thereon, All shields of mighty men.

My beloved put in his hand by the hole of the door; And my bowels yearned for him.

Thy neck is as a tower of ivory; Thine eyes, like the pools in Heshbon, By the gate of Bath-rabbim; Thy nose like the tower of Lebanon, Which looketh toward Damascus;

This thy stature is like to a palm-tree, And thy breasts to grape clusters.

I said, I will go up to the palm-tree, I will take hold of the boughs thereof; And thy breasts shall indeed be like clusters of the vine, And the fragrance of thy nose like apples,

Who is this that cometh up from the wilderness, Leaning upon her beloved? I awoke thee under the apple-tree: There thy mother brought thee forth; There she brought thee forth that bore thee.

If she be a wall, We will build upon her a turret of silver; And if she be a door, We will enclose her with boards of cedar.