Song of Solomon 3

1 By night on my bed I sought him whom my soul loveth: I sought him, but I found him not.

2  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.

3 The watchmen that go about the city found me; To whom I said, Saw ye him whom my soul loveth?

4 It was but a little that I passed from them, When I found him whom my soul loveth: I held him, and would not let him go, Until I had brought him into my mother’s house, And into the chamber of her that conceived me.

5 I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, By the roes, or by the hinds of the field, That ye stir not up, nor awake my love, Until he please.

6 Who is this that cometh up from the wilderness Like pillars of smoke, Perfumed with myrrh and frankincense, With all powders of the merchant?

7 Behold, it is the litter of Solomon; Threescore mighty men are about it, Of the mighty men of Israel.

8 They all handle the sword, and are expert in war: Every man hath his sword upon his thigh, Because of fear in the night.

9 King Solomon made himself a palanquin Of the wood of Lebanon.

10 He made the pillars thereof of silver, The bottom thereof of gold, the seat of it of purple, The midst thereof being paved with love, From the daughters of Jerusalem.

11 Go forth, O ye daughters of Zion, and behold king Solomon, With the crown wherewith his mother hath crowned him In the day of his espousals, And in the day of the gladness of his heart.

Song of Solomon 4

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

2 Thy teeth are like a flock of ewes that are newly shorn, Which are come up from the washing, Whereof every one hath twins, And none is bereaved among them.

3 Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet, And thy mouth is comely. Thy temples are like a piece of a pomegranate Behind thy veil.

4 Thy neck is like the tower of David builded for an armory, Whereon there hang a thousand bucklers, All the shields of the mighty men.

5 Thy two breasts are like two fawns That are twins of a roe, Which feed among the lilies.

6 Until the day be cool, and the shadows flee away, I will get me to the mountain of myrrh, And to the hill of frankincense.

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

8 Come with me from Lebanon, my bride, With me from Lebanon: Look from the top of Amana, From the top of Senir and Hermon, From the lions’ dens, From the mountains of the leopards.

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

10 How fair is thy love, my sister, my bride! How much better is thy love than wine! And the fragrance of thine oils than all manner of spices!

11 Thy lips, O my bride, drop as the honeycomb: Honey and milk are under thy tongue; And the smell of thy garments is like the smell of Lebanon.

12 A garden shut up is my sister, my bride; A spring shut up, a fountain sealed.

13 Thy shoots are an orchard of pomegranates, with precious fruits; Henna with spikenard plants,

14 Spikenard and saffron, Calamus and cinnamon, with all trees of frankincense; Myrrh and aloes, with all the chief spices.

15  Thou art a fountain of gardens, A well of living waters, And flowing streams from Lebanon.

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

Song of Solomon 5

1 I am come into my garden, my sister, my bride: 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.

2 I was asleep, but my heart waked: It is the voice of my beloved that knocketh, 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.

3 I have put off my garment; how shall I put it on? I have washed my feet; how shall I defile them?

4 My beloved put in his hand by the hole of the door, And my heart was moved for him.

5 I rose up to open to my beloved; And my hands droppeth with myrrh, And my fingers with liquid myrrh, Upon the handles of the bolt.

6 I opened to my beloved; But my beloved had withdrawn himself, and was gone. My soul had failed me when he spake: I sought him, but I could not find him; I called him, but he gave me no answer.

7 The watchmen that go about the city found me, They smote me, they wounded me; The keepers of the walls took away my mantle from me.

8 I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, If ye find my beloved, That ye tell him, that I am sick from love.

9 What is thy beloved more than another beloved, O thou fairest among women? What is thy beloved more than another beloved, That thou dost so adjure us?

10 My beloved is white and ruddy, The chiefest among ten thousand.

11 His head is as the most fine gold; His locks are bushy, and black as a raven.

12 His eyes are like doves beside the water-brooks, Washed with milk, and fitly set.

13 His cheeks are as a bed of spices, As banks of sweet herbs: His lips are as lilies, dropping liquid myrrh.

14 His hands are as rings of gold set with beryl: His body is as ivory work overlaid with sapphires.

15 His legs are as pillars of marble, set upon sockets of fine gold: His aspect is like Lebanon, excellent as the cedars.

16 His mouth is most sweet; Yea, he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.