Tell me, O thou whom my soul loveth, where thou feedest, where thou makest thy flock to rest at noon: for why should I be as one that turneth aside by the flocks of thy companions?

If thou knowest not, O thou fairest among women, go forth by the footsteps of the flock, and feed thy kids beside the shepherds tents.

Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; thou hast doves' eyes.

Behold, thou art fair, my beloved, yes, pleasant: also our bed is green.

Until the day shall break, and the shadows flee away, turn, my beloved, and be thou like a roe or a young hart upon the mountains of Bether.

Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; thou hast doves' eyes within thy locks: thy hair is as a flock of goats, that appear from mount Gilead.

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

Thou hast ravished my heart, my sister, my spouse; thou hast ravished my heart with one of thy eyes, with one chain of thy neck.

Awake, O north wind; and come, thou south; blow upon my garden, that its spices may flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden, and eat his pleasant fruits.

What is thy beloved more than another beloved, O thou fairest among women? what is thy beloved more than another beloved, that thou dost so charge us?

Whither is thy beloved gone, O thou fairest among women? whither is thy beloved turned aside? that we may seek him with thee.

Thou art beautiful, O my love, as Tirzah, comely as Jerusalem, terrible as an army with banners.

How fair and how pleasant art thou, O love, for delights!

O that thou wert as my brother, that was nourished at the breasts of my mother! when I should find thee without, I would kiss thee; yes, I should not be despised.

My vineyard which is mine, is before me: thou, O Solomon, must have a thousand, and those that keep the fruit of it two hundred.

Thou that dwellest in the gardens, the companions hearken to thy voice: cause me to hear it.

Make haste, my beloved, and be thou like a roe or a young hart upon the mountains of spices.