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.

If thou knowest not, O fair among women, Get thee forth by the traces of the flock, And feed thy kids by the shepherds' dwellings!

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

We will make thee plaits of gold With studs of silver.

Behold thee fair, my friend; behold thee beautiful; thine eyes are doves'.

Behold thee beautiful, my beloved, also pleasant: also our bed is green.

Until the day shall breathe and the shadows fled away, turn, thou, it being likened to thee, my beloved, to the roe, or to the fawn of the hind upon the mountains of section.

Behold thee beautiful, my friend, behold thee beautiful; thine eyes doves' from behind to thy veil: thy hair as a herd of goats which lay down from mount Gilead.

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

The fruits that sprout in thee are like a very Paradise of pomegranates with sweet fruits:

Whither is thy beloved gone, Thou fairest among women? Whither is thy beloved turned aside? And we will seek him with thee.

Return, return, O Shulamite; Return, return, that we may look upon thee. What would ye look upon in the Shulamite? As it were the dance of two camps.

Thy head upon thee is like Carmel, And the locks of thy head like purple; The king is fettered by thy ringlets!

I said, 'Let me go up on the palm, Let me lay hold on its boughs, Yea, let thy breasts be, I pray thee, as clusters of the vine, And the fragrance of thy face as citrons,

We will go up early to the vineyards, We will see if the vine hath budded, If the blossom is opening, And the pomegranates are in bloom: There will I give thee my loves.

The mandrakes yield fragrance; And at our gates are all choice fruits, new and old: I have laid them up for thee, my beloved.

Oh that thou wert as my brother, That sucked the breasts of my mother! Should I find thee without, I would kiss thee; And they would not despise me.

I would lead thee, bring thee into my mother's house; Thou wouldest instruct me: I would cause thee to drink of spiced wine, Of the juice of my pomegranate.

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.

My vineyard, which is mine, is before me: The thousand silver-pieces be to thee, Solomon; And to the keepers of its fruit, two hundred.

Flee, my beloved, and be it likened to thee to the roe or to the fawn of the hinds upon the mountains of spices.