SHEDraw me! THEYAfter thee, will we run! SHEThe king, hath brought me, into his chambers. THEYWe will exult and rejoice in thee, we will mention thy caresses, beyond wine, Sincerely they love thee.

Marvel not at me that I am so black: For why? The sun hath shined upon me. My mother's children had evil will at me, they made me the keeper of the vineyards; but mine own vineyard have I not kept.

Tell me, thou loved of my soul! Where wilt thou pasture thy flock? Where wilt thou let them recline at noon? For why should I be as one that wrappeth a veil about her, by the flocks of thy companions?

There will I tarry for thee, my love, with mine host and with my chariots, which shall be no fewer than Pharaoh's.

THEYRows of golden ornaments, will we make thee, with studs of silver.

SHEBy the time the king is in his circle, my nard, will have given out its fragrance:

for a bundle of Myrrh is my love unto me; he will lie betwixt my breasts.

Young women of Jerusalem, I charge you
by the gazelles and the wild does of the field:
do not stir up or awaken love
until the appropriate time.

I said , I will rise now, and go about the city; In the streets and in the broad ways I will seek him whom my soul loveth: I sought him, but I found him not.

So when I was a little past them, I found him whom my soul loveth. I have gotten hold upon him, and will not let him go, until I bring him into my mother's house, and in to her chamber that bare me.

“I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem,
By the gazelles or by the hinds of the field,
That you will not arouse or awaken my love
Until she pleases.”

Until the day, breathe, and the shadows, be lengthened, I will get me unto the mountain of myrrh, and unto the hill of frankincense.

Thy lips will drop honey droppings, O bride: honey and milk under thy tongue, and the odor of thy garments as the odor of Lebanon.

SHEAwake, O north wind, and come in, thou south, Fan my garden - its balsams, will flow out, - Let my beloved enter his garden, and eat his precious fruits.

Come into my garden O my sister, my Spouse: I have gathered my Myrrh with my spice. I will eat my honey and my honeycomb, I will drink my wine and my milk. Eat, O ye friends, drink and be merry, O ye beloved.

I adjure you, ye daughters of Jerusalem, - If ye find my beloved, what will ye tell him? That, sick with love, I am.

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

She is one, my dove, my perfect one; she is one to her mother, she is the chosen to her bearing her. The daughters saw her and pronounced her happy; the queens and the concubines, and they will praise her.

Return, return, O Shulammite; Return, return, that we may look upon thee. Why will ye look upon the Shulammite, As upon the dance of Mahanaim?

Thy navel a bowl of roundness, it will not want mixed wine; thy belly a heap of wheat enclosed with lilies.

I said, I will ascend the palm-tree, I will lay hold of its fruit stalks - Oh then, let thy breasts, I pray thee, be like vine-clusters, And, the fragrance of thy nose, like apples;

There will I turn me unto my love, and he shall turn him unto me.

Come, my beloved, we will go forth to the field; we will lodge in the villages.

Let us get up early to the vineyards, Let us see whether the vine, hath burst forth, the blossom, hath opened, the pomegranates, have bloomed, - There, will I give my caresses to thee.

Who will give thee as a brother to me, sucking the breasts of my mother? I shall find thee without, I shall kiss thee; also they shall not despise me.

I will lead thee, I will bring thee to the house of my mother; thou wilt teach me: I will give thee to drink from spiced wine from the new wine of my pomegranate.

I HEadjure you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, - Why will ye wake, and why will ye arouse the dear love until she please! ****

“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.”

We have a little sister, and she has not yet reached maturity. What will we do for our sister to prepare her for her engagement?

If, a wall, she is, we will build upon it a battlement of silver, - but if, a door, she is, we will close it up with a plank of cedar.

My vine-garden, which is mine, is before me: you, O Solomon, will have the thousand, and those who keep the fruit of them two hundred.