Tell me, 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 veiled Beside the flocks of thy companions?

If thou know not, thou fairest among women, Go thy way forth by the footsteps of the flock, And feed thy kids beside the shepherds' booths.

Behold, thou art fair, my love; Behold, thou art fair: thine eyes are doves.

Behold, thou art fair, my beloved, yea, pleasant; Also our bed is green.

Until the day dawn, and the shadows flee away. Turn, my beloved: be thou like a gazelle or a young hart, Upon the mountains of Bether.

Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; Thine eyes are doves behind thy veil; Thy hair is as a flock of goats, On the slopes of mount Gilead.

Thou art all fair, my love; And there is no spot in thee.

Thou hast ravished my heart, my sister, my spouse; Thou hast ravished my heart with one of thine eyes, With one chain of thy neck.

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

What is thy beloved more than another beloved, Thou fairest among women? What is thy beloved more than another beloved, That thou dost so charge us?

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

Thou art fair, my love, as Tirzah, Comely as Jerusalem, Terrible as troops with banners:

How fair and how pleasant art thou, my love, in delights!

Oh that thou wert as my brother, That sucked the breasts of my mother! Should I find thee without, I would kiss thee; And they would not despise me.

I would lead thee, bring thee into my mother's house; Thou wouldest instruct me: I would cause thee to drink of spiced wine, Of the juice of my pomegranate.

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

Haste, my beloved, And be thou like a gazelle or a young hart Upon the mountains of spices.