“Draw me away with you and let us run together!
Let the king bring me into his chambers.”

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. --

Thy cheeks were beautiful with with rows, thy neck with strings of pearls.

I wish that his left hand were under my head, and that his right hand were embracing me!

The flowers were seen in the earth; the time of pruning came, and the voice of the turtle-dove was heard in our land.

(The Bridegroom)
“O my dove, [here] in the clefts in the rock,
In the sheltered and secret place of the steep pathway,
Let me see your face,
Let me hear your voice;
For your voice is sweet,
And your face is lovely.”

Who is this, that cometh up out of the wilderness like pillars of smoke, as it were a smell of Myrrh, frankincense and all manner spices of the Apothecary?

Its posts were made of silver; its back was made of gold. Its seat was upholstered with purple wool; its interior was inlaid with leather by the maidens of Jerusalem.

How beautiful were thy breasts, my sister, O bride! how good were thy breasts above wine, and the odor of thine ointments above all spices.

My beloved, thrust in his hand, at the window, and, my feelings, were deeply moved for him:

I got up to let my loved one in; and my hands were dropping with myrrh, and my fingers with liquid myrrh, on the lock of the door.

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.

I went down into the garden of nuts, To see the green plants of the valley, To see whether the vine budded, And the pomegranates were in flower.

THEYReturn, return, O Shulamite, Return, return, that we may look on thee! SHEWhat would ye look on in the Shulamite? THEYAs it were the dance of a double camp --

As the chorus of 'Mahanaim.' How beautiful were thy feet with sandals, O daughter of Nadib. The turnings of thy sides are as ornaments, Work of the hands of an artificer.

Thy neck is as it were a tower of ivory; thine eyes are like the water pools in Heshbon, by the port of Bathrabbim. Thy nose is like the tower of Lebanon, which looketh toward Damascus.

Oh that you were my brother, who took milk from my mother's breasts! When I came to you in the street, I would give you kisses; yes, I would not be looked down on.

“Let his left hand be under my head
And his right hand embrace me.”

“Many waters cannot quench love,
Nor will rivers overflow it;
If a man were to give all the riches of his house for love,
It would be utterly despised.”

“I was a wall, and my breasts were like towers;
Then I became in his eyes as one who finds peace.