My beloved is mine, and I am his. He feeds among the lilies.

My beloved has gone down to his garden, to the beds of spices, to feed in the gardens, and to gather lilies.

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

Thy body is a round goblet, no mingled wine is wanting. Thy waist is a heap of wheat set about with lilies.

And why are ye anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow. They toil not, nor do they spin,

Consider the lilies, how they grow. They toil not, nor do they spin, and I say to you, not even Solomon in all his glory was arrayed like one of these.