Song of Songs 1:6
Look not upon me, because I am swarthy, Because the sun hath scorched me. My mother's sons were incensed against me; They made me keeper of the vineyards; [But] mine own vineyard have I not kept.
Look not upon me, because I am swarthy, Because the sun hath scorched me. My mother's sons were incensed against me; They made me keeper of the vineyards; [But] mine own vineyard have I not kept.
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4Draw 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. [
5I am black, but comely, Oh ye daughters of Jerusalem, As the tents of Kedar, As the curtains of Solomon.
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?
8If thou know not, O thou fairest among women, Go thy way forth by the footsteps of the flock, And feed thy kids beside the shepherds' tents.
9I have compared thee, O my love, To a steed in Pharaoh's chariots.
30My skin is black, [and falleth] from me, And my bones are burned with heat.
31Therefore is my harp [turned] to mourning, And my pipe into the voice of them that weep.
7Her nobles were purer than snow, they were whiter than milk; They were more ruddy in body than rubies, their polishing was as of sapphire.
8Their visage is blacker than a coal; They are not known in the streets: Their skin cleaveth to their bones; it is withered, it is become like a stick.
5Turn away thine eyes from me, For they have overcome me. Thy hair is as a flock of goats, That lie along the side of Gilead.
10Our skin is black like an oven, Because of the burning heat of famine.
6I opened to my beloved; But my beloved had withdrawn himself, [and] was gone.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.
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.
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?
10My beloved is white and ruddy, The chiefest among ten thousand.
11His head is [as] the most fine gold; His locks are bushy, [and] black as a raven.
1Let me sing for my wellbeloved a song of my beloved touching his vineyard. My wellbeloved had a vineyard in a very fruitful hill:
21For the hurt of the daughter of my people am I hurt: I mourn; dismay hath taken hold on me.
10Who is she that looketh forth as the morning, Fair as the moon, Clear as the sun, Terrible as an army with banners?
11I went down into the garden of nuts, To see the green plants of the valley, To see whether the vine budded, [And] the pomegranates were in flower.
12Before I was aware, my soul set me [Among] the chariots of my princely people.
16Which are black by reason of the ice, [And] wherein the snow hideth itself:
1Whither is thy beloved gone, O thou fairest among women? Whither hath thy beloved turned him, That we may seek him with 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.
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.
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.
1Oh that thou wert as my brother, That sucked the breasts of my mother! [When] I should find thee without, I would kiss thee; Yea, and none would despise me.
16My face is red with weeping, And on my eyelids is the shadow of death;
10I am my beloved's; And his desire is toward me.
7He hath laid my vine waste, and barked my fig-tree: he hath made it clean bare, and cast it away; the branches thereof are made white.
3I have put off my garment; How shall I put it on? I have washed my feet; how shall I defile them?
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.
12My vineyard, which is mine, is before me: Thou, O Solomon, shalt have the thousand, And those that keep the fruit thereof two hundred.
13Thou that dwellest in the gardens, The companions hearken for thy voice: Cause me to hear it.
7Mine eye also is dim by reason of sorrow, And all my members are as a shadow.
4What could have been done more to my vineyard, that I have not done in it? wherefore, when I looked that it should bring forth grapes, brought it forth wild grapes?
1Woe is me! for I am as when they have gathered the summer fruits, as the grape gleanings of the vintage: there is no cluster to eat; my soul desireth the first-ripe fig.
12Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by? Behold, and see if there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow, which is brought upon me, Wherewith Jehovah hath afflicted [me] in the day of his fierce anger.
7Mine eye wasteth away because of grief; It waxeth old because of all mine adversaries.
2Wherefore art thou red in thine apparel, and thy garments like him that treadeth in the winevat?
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.
8My heritage is become unto me as a lion in the forest: she hath uttered her voice against me; therefore I have hated her.
10I am a wall, and my breasts like the towers [thereof] Then was I in his eyes as one that found peace.
8I am become a stranger unto my brethren, And an alien unto my mother's children.
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.
12For it was not an enemy that reproached me; Then I could have borne it: Neither was it he that hated me that did magnify himself against me; Then I would have hid myself from him:
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.