For Your ointments have a lovely fragrance; Your name is as oil poured out; therefore the virgins love You.

Draw me, we will run after You. The King has brought me into his chambers; we will be glad and rejoice in You, we will remember Your love more than wine; the upright love You.

I am black, but comely, O daughters of Jerusalem, like the tents of Kedar, like the curtains of Solomon.

Do not look on me, that I am black, that the sun has looked on me. My mother's sons were angry with me; they made me the keeper of the vineyards; but my vineyard I have not kept.

Tell me, You whom my soul loves, where do You feed, where do You lie down at noon? For why should I be as one who is veiled beside the flocks of Your companions?

If you know not, most beautiful among women, go in the footsteps of the flock; and feed your kids beside the shepherds' tents.

O My love, I have compared you to My mares among Pharaoh's chariots.

We will make you borders of gold with studs of silver.

A bundle of myrrh is my Beloved to me. He shall lie all night between my breasts.

My Beloved is to me like a cluster of henna in the vineyards of Engedi.

Behold, you are beautiful, my love; behold, you are beautiful; you have doves' eyes.

Behold, you are beautiful, my Beloved, yea, pleasant. Also our bed is green.

I am the rose of Sharon, a lily of the valleys.

As the apple 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.

Feed me with raisin cakes, comfort me with apples, for I am sick with love.

I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, by the gazelles, and by the does of the field, do not stir up or awake my Love until He please.

My Beloved is like a roe or a young hart. Behold, He stands behind our wall, He looks forth at the windows, peering from the lattice.

My Beloved spoke, and said to me, Rise up, My love, My beautiful one, and come away.

the fig tree puts forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. Arise, My love, My beautiful one, and come away.

O My dove, in the clefts of the rock, in the secret places of the stairs, let Me see your face, let Me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your face is beautiful.

My Beloved is mine, and I am His; He feeds among the lilies.

Until when does the day blow, and the shadows flee away? Turn, my Beloved, and be like a gazelle, or a young deer, the stag, on the mountains of Bether.

By night on my bed I sought Him whom my soul loved; I sought Him, but I did not find Him.

I will rise now and go about the city, in the streets and in the broad ways; I will seek Him whom my soul loves. I sought Him, but I did not find Him.

The watchmen going about the city found me. I said, Have you seen Him whom my soul loves?

But a little while after I passed from them, I found Him whom my soul loves. I held Him and would not let Him go, until I had brought Him into my mother's house, and into the room of her who conceived me.

I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, by the gazelles, and by the does of the field, do not stir up nor awake my love until it pleases.

Who is this coming up out of the wilderness like pillars of smoke, perfumed with myrrh and frankincense, from all the merchant's powders?

King Solomon made himself a litter-bed of Lebanon's trees.

Go forth, O daughters of Zion, and behold King Solomon with the crown with which his mother crowned him on his wedding day, and in the day of the gladness of his heart.

Behold, you are beautiful, My love. Behold, you are beautiful; your eyes are like doves' from behind your veil; your hair is like a flock of goats that appear from Mount Gilead.

Your teeth are like a flock of shorn sheep, which came up from the washing; they all are bearing twins and not one is barren among them.

Your lips are like a cord of scarlet, and your speech is becoming; your temples are like a piece of pomegranate behind your veil.

Your neck is like the tower of David built for an armory, on which there hang a thousand bucklers, all shields of mighty men.

Your two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle, feeding among the lilies.

Until when the day blows, and the shadows flee away, I will go to the mountain of myrrh and to the hill of frankincense.

You are all fair, My love; no blemish is in you.

You have ravished My heart, My sister, My spouse; you have ravished My heart with one of your eyes, with one chain of your neck.

A locked garden is My sister, My spouse; a rock heap locked up, a fountain sealed.

a fountain of gardens, a well of living waters, and streams from Lebanon.

Awake, O north wind; and come, south wind; blow on my garden, so that the spices of it may flow out. Let my Beloved come into His garden and eat His pleasant fruits.

I have come into My garden, My sister, My spouse; 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 sleep, but my heart is awake. It is the sound of my Beloved that knocks, 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 coat; How shall I put it on? I have washed my feet; how shall I defile them?

I rose up to open to my Beloved; and my hands dripped with myrrh, and my fingers flowing with myrrh on the handles of the bolt.

I opened to my Beloved, but my Beloved had left. He passed on. My soul went out when He spoke; I sought Him, but I could not find Him. I called Him, but He did not answer me.

The watchmen who went about the city found me and struck me; they wounded me. The keepers of the wall lifted my veil from me.

I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if you find my Beloved, what do you tell Him? That I am sick with love.

What is your Beloved more than another beloved, most beautiful among women? What is your Beloved more than another beloved, that you adjure us so?

His head is like refined gold; His locks are bushy, black as a raven.

His eyes are as doves' eyes on the rivers of waters, washed with milk, sitting on a setting.

His cheeks are like a bed of spices, a raised bed of aromatic herbs. His lips are as lilies dropping flowing myrrh.

His mouth is most sweet; yes, He is altogether lovely. This is my Beloved, and this is my Friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.

Where has your Beloved gone, most beautiful among women? Where has your Beloved turned? For we seek Him along with you.

I am my Beloved's, and my Beloved is mine; He feeds among the lilies.

O my love, you are as beautiful as Tirzah, as lovely as Jerusalem, as inspiring as an army with banners.

Turn away your eyes from Me, for they have overcome Me; your hair is like a flock of goats that appears from Gilead.

Your teeth are like a flock of ewes which go up from the washing; they all are bearing twins, and a barren one is not among them.

Your temples behind your veil are like a piece of pomegranate.

But My dove, My undefiled is one alone. She is the only one of her mother. She is the choice of her who bore her. The daughters saw her and blessed her; the queens and the concubines saw her, and they praised her.

Who is she who looks forth like the morning, fair as the moon, clear as the sun, awesome as armies with banners?

I went down into the garden of nuts to see the greenery of the valley, to see whether the vine flowered and the pomegranates budded.

I did not know, but my soul set me on the chariots of my princely people.

Return, return, O Shulamite! Return, return, that we may look on you. What will you see in the Shulamite? As it were the dance of two camps.

How beautiful are your feet in sandals, O prince's daughter! The curves of your thighs are like jewels, the work of the hands of a skillful workman.

Your navel is like a round goblet, which never lacks mixed wine; your belly is like a heap of wheat set about with lilies.

Your two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle.

Your neck is like a tower of ivory; your eyes like the fish-pools in Heshbon, by the gate of Beth-rabbim; your nose is like the tower of Lebanon which looks toward Damascus.

Your head on you is like Carmel, and the hair of your head like purple cloth; the King is held captive in its tresses.

How beautiful and how pleasant you are, O love, for delights!

Your stature is like a palm tree, and your breasts are like clusters of grapes.

I said, I will go up in the palm tree, I will take hold of its stalk. And please let your breasts be like clusters of the vine, and the smell of your nose like apples;

I am my Beloved's, and His desire is toward me.

Let us rise up early to the vineyards; let us see if the vine flowers, whether the tender grape appears, and the pomegranates bud forth; there I will give You my loves.

The love-apples give a scent, and over our doors are all pleasant fruits, new and old, which I have laid up for You, O my Beloved.

Who could give You to me as my brother, who sucked my mother's breasts? When I find You outside, I would kiss You; yea, they would not despise me.

I would lead You, and bring You into my mother's house. You would instruct me; I would cause You to drink spiced wine of the juice of my pomegranate.

I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, why should you stir up or awaken my Love until it pleases?

Who is this coming up from the wilderness, leaning on her Beloved? I awakened you under the apple tree; there your mother travailed with you; there she travailed and bore you.

Set me as a seal on Your heart, as a seal on Your arm; for love is strong as death. Jealousy is cruel as the grave; its flames are flames of fire, a flame of Jehovah.

Many waters cannot quench love, nor will the rivers overflow it. If a man would give all the wealth of his house for love, it would be scorned.

We have a little sister, and she has no breasts; what shall we do for our sister in the day when she shall be spoken for?

If she is a wall, we will build on her a palace of silver; and if she is a door, we will enclose her with boards of cedar.

I was a wall, and my breasts like towers; then I was in His eyes as one finding peace.

Solomon had a vineyard in Baal-hamon; he let out the vineyard to keepers; everyone for its fruit was to bring a thousand of silver.

My vineyard, which is mine, is before me; you, O Solomon, must have a thousand, and for the keepers of its fruit, two hundred.

You who dwell in the gardens, the companions listen to your voice; cause me to hear.

Hurry, my Beloved, and be like a gazelle, or a young deer, the stag, on the mountains of spices.