Song of Songs 4:13
Thy shoots are an orchard of pomegranates, with precious fruits; Henna with spikenard plants,
Thy shoots are an orchard of pomegranates, with precious fruits; Henna with spikenard plants,
These verses are found using AI-powered semantic similarity based on meaning and context. Results may occasionally include unexpected connections.
14Spikenard and saffron, Calamus and cinnamon, with all trees of frankincense; Myrrh and aloes, with all the chief spices.
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.
3Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet, And thy mouth is comely. Thy temples are like a piece of a pomegranate Behind thy veil.
4Thy neck is like the tower of David builded for an armory, Whereon there hang a thousand bucklers, All the shields of the mighty men.
5Thy two breasts are like two fawns That are twins of a roe, Which feed among the lilies.
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.
12A garden shut up is my sister, [my] bride; A spring shut up, a fountain sealed.
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.
13The mandrakes give forth fragrance; And at our doors are all manner of precious fruits, new and old, Which I have laid up for thee, O my beloved.
12While the king sat at his table, My spikenard sent forth its fragrance.
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.
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.
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.
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.
1Whither is thy beloved gone, O thou fairest among women? Whither hath thy beloved turned him, That we may seek him with thee?
2My beloved is gone down to his garden, To the beds of spices, To feed in the gardens, and to gather lilies.
13His cheeks are as a bed of spices, [As] banks of sweet herbs: His lips are [as] lilies, dropping liquid myrrh.
17I have perfumed my bed With myrrh, aloes, and cinnamon.
4Thy neck is like the tower of ivory; Thine eyes [as] the pools in Heshbon, By the gate of Bath-rabbim; Thy nose is like the tower of Lebanon Which looketh toward Damascus.
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!
7This thy stature is like to a palm-tree, And thy breasts to its clusters.
8I said, I will climb up into the palm-tree, I will take hold of the branches thereof: Let thy breasts be as clusters of the vine, And the smell of thy breath like apples,
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.
1I am a rose of Sharon, A lily of the valleys.
2As a lily among thorns, So is my love among the daughters.
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.
6Who is this that cometh up from the wilderness Like pillars of smoke, Perfumed with myrrh and frankincense, With all powders of the merchant?
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.
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. [
7Thy temples are like a piece of a pomegranate Behind thy veil.
16Behold, thou art fair, my beloved, yea, pleasant: Also our couch is green.
17The beams of our house are cedars, [And] our rafters are firs.
8All thy garments [smell of] myrrh, and aloes, [and] cassia; Out of ivory palaces stringed instruments have made thee glad.
1Let me sing for my wellbeloved a song of my beloved touching his vineyard. My wellbeloved had a vineyard in a very fruitful hill:
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.
6His branches shall spread, and his beauty shall be as the olive-tree, and his smell as Lebanon.
2Thy body is [like] a round goblet, [Wherein] no mingled wine is wanting: Thy waist is [like] a heap of wheat Set about with lilies.
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.