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

Look not upon me, because I am swarthy, Because the sun hath scorched me. My mother's sons were incensed against me; They made me keeper of the vineyards; But 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 love thrust his hand through the opening,
and my feelings were stirred 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.

Return, return, O Shulamite; Return, return, that we may look upon thee. What would ye look upon in the Shulamite? As it were the dance of two camps.

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.

O that you were as my brother, that nursed at the breasts of my mother! if I should find you outside, I would kiss you; yea, I would not be despised.

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

Mighty waters cannot extinguish love;
rivers cannot sweep it away.
If a man were to give all his wealth for love,
it would be utterly scorned.

I [was] a wall, and my breasts [were] like the towers, {so [my betrothed] viewed me with great delight}.