SHEDraw me! THEYAfter thee, will we run! SHEThe king, hath brought me, into his chambers. THEYWe will exult and rejoice in thee, we will mention thy caresses, beyond wine, Sincerely they love thee.

SHEDo not look on me, because, I, am so swarthy, because the sun hath scorched me, - My mother's sons, were angry with me, they set me to keep the vineyards, Mine own vineyard, have I not kept. --

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.

They watching going about in the city, found me: Saw ye him that my soul loved?

They all handle the sword, and are expert in war: Every man hath his sword upon his thigh, Because of fear in the night.

Your teeth are like a flock of shorn sheep, which came up from the washing; they all are bearing twins and not one is barren among them.

The watchmen who were going round in the city, found me, they smote me, wounded me, - The watchmen of the walls, took away my cloak from off me.

His eyes are as the eyes of doves by the water brooks, as though they were washed with milk and set like pearls in gold.

(The Chorus)“Where has your beloved gone,
O most beautiful among women?
Where is your beloved hiding himself,
That we may seek him with you?”

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:

Your teeth are like a flock of ewes which go up from the washing; they all are bearing twins, and a barren one is not among them.

They are sixty queens, and eighty concubines, and maidens no number.

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.

(The Chorus)
“Return, return, O Shulammite;
Return, return, that we may gaze at you.”

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.

(The Chorus)
“Who is this coming up from the wilderness
Leaning upon her beloved?”

Many waters, cannot quench love, nor shall, floods, overwhelm it, - If a man would give all the substance of his house, for love, they would, utterly despise, him. ****

THEYA sister, have we, a little one, and, breasts, hath she none, What shall we do for our sister, in the day when she may be spoken for?