{The Ballad of Ballads of Solomon} O that thy mouth would give me a kiss!

Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth; For thy love is better than wine.

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.

Tell me, O thou whom my soul loveth, Where thou feedest thy flock , Where thou makest it to rest at noon: For why should I be as one that is veiled Beside the flocks of thy companions?

If thou know not, O thou fairest among women, Go thy way forth by the footsteps of the flock, And feed thy kids beside the shepherds tents.

Thy cheeks are comely with plaits of hair , Thy neck with strings of jewels.

O my dove, that art in the clefts of the rock, In the covert of the steep place, Let me see thy countenance, Let me hear thy voice; For sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely.

Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; Thine eyes are as doves behind thy veil. Thy hair is as a flock of goats, That lie along the side of mount Gilead.

Thy teeth are like a flock of ewes that are newly'shorn, Which are come up from the washing, Whereof every one hath twins, And none is bereaved among them.

Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet, And thy mouth is comely. Thy temples are like a piece of a pomegranate Behind thy veil.

Thy neck is like the tower of David builded for an armory, Whereon there hang a thousand bucklers, All the shields of the mighty men.

Thy two breasts are like two fawns That are twins of a roe, Which feed among the lilies.

Thou hast ravished my heart, my sister, my bride; Thou hast ravished my heart with one of thine eyes, With one chain of thy neck.

How fair is thy love, my sister, my bride! How much better is thy love than wine! And the fragrance of thine oils than all manner of spices!

Thy lips, O my bride, drop as the honeycomb: Honey and milk are under thy tongue; And the smell of thy garments is like the smell of Lebanon.

Thy shoots are an orchard of pomegranates, with precious fruits; Henna with spikenard plants,

What is thy beloved more than another beloved, Thou fairest among women? What is thy beloved more than another beloved, That thou dost so charge us?

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

Turn away thine eyes from me, For they overcome me. Thy hair is as a flock of goats On the slopes of Gilead.

Thy teeth are like a flock of sheep Which go up from the washing; Which have all borne twins, And none is barren among them.

As a piece of a pomegranate are thy temples Behind thy veil.

How beautiful are thy footsteps in sandals, O prince's daughter! The roundings of thy thighs are like jewels, The work of the hands of an artist.

Thy navel is a round goblet, which wanteth not mixed wine; Thy belly a heap of wheat, set about with lilies;

Thy two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle;

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;

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

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,

And the roof of thy mouth like the best wine, ... That goeth down smoothly for my beloved, And stealeth over the lips of them that are asleep.

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.

Set me as a seal upon thy heart, As a seal upon thine arm: For love is strong as death; Jealousy is cruel as Sheol: The flashes thereof are flashes of fire, Flames of Jah.

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