Shir Hashirim - Song of Songs 4
1Behold, 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 trail down from mount Gilead.
2Thy teeth are like a flock of ewes all shaped alike,
Which are come up from the washing; Whereof all are paired, and none faileth among them.
3Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet,
And thy mouth is comely; Thy temples are like a pomegranate split open Behind thy veil.
4Thy neck is like the tower of David
Builded with turrets, Whereon there hang a thousand shields, All the armour of the mighty men.
5Thy two breasts are like two fawns
That are twins of a gazelle, Which feed among the lilies.
6Until the day breathe,
And the shadows flee away, I will get me to the mountain of myrrh, And to the hill of frankincense.
7Thou art all fair, my love;
And there is no spot in thee.
8Come 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.
9Thou hast ravished my heart, my sister, my bride;
Thou hast ravished my heart with one of thine eyes, With one bead of thy necklace.
10How fair is thy love, my sister, my bride!
How much better is thy love than wine! And the smell of thine ointments than all manner of spices!
11Thy lips, O my bride, drop honey—
Honey and milk are under thy tongue; And the smell of thy garments is like the smell of Lebanon.
12A garden shut up is my sister, my bride;
A spring shut up, a fountain sealed.
13Thy shoots are a park of pomegranates,
With precious fruits; Henna with spikenard plants,
14Spikenard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon,
With all trees of frankincense; Myrrh and aloes, with all the chief spices.
15Thou art a fountain of gardens,
A well of living waters, And flowing streams from Lebanon.
16Awake, 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.