Let him kiss me with the kiss of his mouth: for thy breasts are better than wine,
Smelling sweet of the best ointments. Thy name is as oil poured out: therefore young maidens have loved thee.
Draw me: we will run after thee to the odour of thy ointments. The king hath brought me into his storerooms: we will be glad and rejoice in thee, remembering thy breasts more than wine: the righteous love thee.
I am black but beautiful, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, as the tents of Cedar, as the curtains of Solomon.
Do not consider me that I am brown, because the sun hath altered my colour: the sons of my mother have fought against me, they have made me the keeper in the vineyards: my vineyard I have not kept.
Shew me, O thou whom my soul loveth, where thou feedest, where thou liest in the midday, lest I begin to wander after the flocks of thy companions.
If thou know not thyself, O fairest among women, go forth, and follow after the steps of the flocks, and feed thy kids beside the tents of the shepherds.
To my company of horsemen, in Pharao's chariots, have I likened thee, O my love.
Thy cheeks are beautiful as the turtledove's, thy neck as jewels.
We will make thee chains of gold, inlaid with silver.
While the king was at his repose, my spikenard sent forth the odour thereof.
A bundle of myrrh is my beloved to me, he shall abide between my breasts.
A cluster of cypress my love is to me, in the vineyards of Engaddi.
Behold thou art fair, O my love, behold thou art fair, thy eyes are as those of doves.
Behold thou art fair, my beloved, and comely. Our bed is flourishing.
The beams of our houses are of cedar, our rafters of cypress trees.