Shir Hashirim - Song of Songs 5


1I 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.
2I sleep, but my heart waketh;Hark! my beloved knocketh:‘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.’
3I have put off my coat;How shall I put it on?I have washed my feet;How shall I defile them?
4My beloved put in his hand by the hole of the door,And my heart was moved for him.
5I rose up to open to my beloved;And my hands dropped with myrrh,And my fingers with flowing myrrh,Upon the handles of the bar.
6I opened to my beloved;But my beloved had turned away, and was gone.My soul failed me when he spoke.I sought him, but I could not find him;I called him, but he gave me no answer.
7The 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, what will ye tell him?That I am love-sick.’
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,Pre-eminent above ten thousand.
11His head is as the most fine gold,His locks are curled,And black as a raven.
12His eyes are like dovesBeside the water-brooks;Washed with milk,And fitly set.
13His cheeks are as a bed of spices,As banks of sweet herbs;His lips are as lilies,Dropping with flowing myrrh.
14His hands are as rods of goldSet with beryl;His body is as polished ivoryOverlaid with sapphires.
15His legs are as pillars of marble,Set upon sockets of fine gold;His aspect is like Lebanon,Excellent as the cedars.
16His mouth is most sweet;Yea, he is altogether lovely.This is my beloved, and this is my friend,O daughters of Jerusalem.’