Tell me, thou loved of my soul! Where wilt thou pasture thy flock? Where wilt thou let them recline at noon? For why should I be as one that wrappeth a veil about her, by the flocks of thy companions?

HEI adjure you, ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the gazelles or by the hinds of the field, - That ye wake not, nor arouse, the dear love until she please! ****

BOTHTake ye for us, the foxes, the little foxes that are spoiling the vines, - and, our vines, are all blossom!

SHEMy beloved, is, mine, and, I, am, his, he that pastureth among lilies!

The watchmen that go round in the city, found me, The beloved of my soul, have ye seen?

Scarcely had I passed from them, when I found the beloved of my soul, - I caught him, and would not let him go, until that I had brought him into the house of my mother, and into the chamber of her that conceived me.

HEI adjure you ye, daughters of Jerusalem, by the gazelles, or by the hinds of the field, - That ye wake not, nor arouse, the dear love until she please. ****

I adjure you, ye daughters of Jerusalem, - If ye find my beloved, what will ye tell him? That, sick with love, I am.

DAUGHTERS OF JERUSALEMWhat is thy beloved more than any other beloved, thou most beautiful among women? What is thy beloved more than any other beloved, that, thus, thou hast adjured us?

DAUGHTERS OF JERUSALEMWhither hath thy beloved, gone, thou most beautiful among women? whither hath thy beloved turned him aside? That we may seek him with thee.

I, am, my beloved's, and, my beloved, is mine, he that pastureth among lilies.

Turn away thine eyes from me, for, they, have excited me, - Thy hair, is like a flock of goats, that are reclining on the sides of Mount Gilead:

One alone, is my dove, my perfect one, one alone, was she to her mother, Pure, was she to her that bare her, - The daughters, have seen her, and pronounced her happy, Queens and concubines, and they have praised her.

THEYWho is this, that looketh forth like the dawn, beautiful as the moon, pure as the sun, majestic as bannered hosts?

THEYReturn, return, O Shulamite, Return, return, that we may look on thee! SHEWhat would ye look on in the Shulamite? THEYAs it were the dance of a double camp --

Oh that thou hadst been a very brother to me, who had sucked the breasts of my own mother, - Had I found thee without, I had kissed thee, Yea, folk would not have despised me!