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?

While the king sat at his table, My spikenard sent forth its fragrance.

As the apple-tree among the trees of the wood, So is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, And his fruit was sweet to my taste.

My beloved is like a roe or a young hart: Behold, he standeth behind our wall; He looketh in at the windows; He glanceth through the lattice.

It was but a little that I passed from them, When I found him whom my soul loveth: I held him, and would not let him go, Until I had brought him into my mother's house, And into the chamber of her that conceived me.

Behold, it is the litter of Solomon; Threescore mighty men are about it, Of the mighty men of Israel.

King Solomon made himself a palanquin Of the wood of Lebanon.

He made the pillars thereof of silver, The bottom thereof of gold, the seat of it of purple, The midst thereof being paved with love, From the daughters of Jerusalem.

Awake, O north wind; and come, thou south; Blow upon my garden, that the spices thereof may flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden, And eat his precious fruits.

I am come into my garden, my sister, my bride: I have gathered my myrrh with my spice; I have eaten my honeycomb with my honey; I have drunk my wine with my milk. Eat, O friends; Drink, yea, drink abundantly, O beloved.

I was asleep, but my heart waked: It is the voice of my beloved that knocketh,'saying , Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled; For my head is filled with dew, My locks with the drops of the night.

I have put off my garment; how shall I put it on? I have washed my feet; how shall I defile them?

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 adjure us?

My beloved is white and ruddy, The chiefest among ten thousand.

Thy body is like a round goblet, Wherein no mingled wine is wanting: Thy waist is like a heap of wheat Set about with lilies.

The mandrakes give forth fragrance; And at our doors are all manner of precious fruits, new and old, Which I have laid up for thee, O my beloved.

Many waters cannot quench love, Neither can floods drown it: If a man would give all the substance of his house for love, He would utterly be contemned.

We have a little sister, And she hath no breasts: What shall we do for our sister In the day when she shall be spoken for?

Solomon had a vineyard at Baal-hamon; He let out the vineyard unto keepers; Every one for the fruit thereof was to bring a thousand pieces of silver.

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