Song of Songs 1:4
Draw me; we will run after thee: The king hath brought me into his chambers; We will be glad and rejoice in thee; We will make mention of thy love more than of wine: Rightly do they love thee. [
Draw me; we will run after thee: The king hath brought me into his chambers; We will be glad and rejoice in thee; We will make mention of thy love more than of wine: Rightly do they love thee. [
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2Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth; For thy love is better than wine.
3Thine oils have a goodly fragrance; Thy name is [as] oil poured forth; Therefore do the virgins love thee.
6Until the day be cool, 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 chain of thy neck.
10How 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!
11Thy 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.
5I am black, but comely, Oh ye daughters of Jerusalem, As the tents of Kedar, As the curtains of Solomon.
3As the apple-tree among the trees of the wood, So is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, And his fruit was sweet to my taste.
4He brought me to the banqueting-house, And his banner over me was love.
5Stay ye me with raisins, refresh me with apples; For I am sick from love.
6His left hand [is] under my head, And his right hand doth embrace me.
7I 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.
5Thy head upon thee is like Carmel, And the hair of thy head like purple; The king is held captive in the tresses [thereof] .
6How fair and how pleasant art thou, O love, for delights!
1Whither is thy beloved gone, O thou fairest among women? Whither hath thy beloved turned him, That we may seek him with thee?
7Tell me, O thou whom my soul loveth, Where thou feedest [thy flock], Where thou makest [it] to rest at noon: For why should I be as one that is veiled Beside the flocks of thy companions?
10My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.
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 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.
13My beloved is unto me [as] a bundle of myrrh, That lieth betwixt my breasts.
14My beloved is unto me [as] a cluster of henna-flowers In the vineyards of En-gedi.
15Behold, thou art fair, my love; Behold thou art fair; Thine eyes are [as] doves.
9I have compared thee, O my love, To a steed in Pharaoh's chariots.
9And thy mouth like the best wine, That goeth down smoothly for my beloved, Gliding through the lips of those that are asleep.
10I am my beloved's; And his desire is toward me.
11Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the field; Let us lodge in the villages.
12Let us get up early to the vineyards; Let us see whether the vine hath budded, [And] its blossom is open, [And] the pomegranates are in flower: There will I give thee my love.
8I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, If ye find my beloved, That ye tell him, that I am sick from love.
9What 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?
3The watchmen that go about the city found me; [To whom I said], Saw ye him whom my soul loveth?
4It 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.
5I 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.
6Who is this that cometh up from the wilderness Like pillars of smoke, Perfumed with myrrh and frankincense, With all powders of the merchant?
2I would lead thee, [and] bring thee into my mother's house, Who would instruct me; I would cause thee to drink of spiced wine, Of the juice of my pomegranate.
3His left hand [should be] under my head, And his right hand should embrace me.
4I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, That ye stir not up, nor awake [my] love, Until he please.
5Who is this that cometh up from the wilderness, Leaning upon her beloved? Under the apple-tree I awakened thee: There thy mother was in travail with thee, There was she in travail that brought thee forth.
18Come, let us take our fill of love until the morning; Let us solace ourselves with loves.
16His mouth is most sweet; Yea, he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.
13Thou that dwellest in the gardens, The companions hearken for thy voice: Cause me to hear it.
14Make haste, my beloved, And be thou like to a roe or to a young hart Upon the mountains of spices.
4Thou art fair, O my love, as Tirzah, Comely as Jerusalem, Terrible as an army with banners.
15[ Thou 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.
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 lie along the side of mount Gilead.
13The fig-tree ripeneth her green figs, And the vines are in blossom; They give forth their fragrance. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.
14O my dove, that art in the clefts of the rock, In the covert of the steep place, Let me see thy countenance, Let me hear thy voice; For sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely.
19[ As] a loving hind and a pleasant doe, Let her breasts satisfy thee at all times; And be thou ravished always with her love.