Song of Songs 1:4
Take me to you, and we will go after you: the king has taken me into his house. We will be glad and full of joy in you, we will give more thought to your love than to wine: rightly are they your lovers.
Take me to you, and we will go after you: the king has taken me into his house. We will be glad and full of joy in you, we will give more thought to your love than to wine: rightly are they your lovers.
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2Let him give me the kisses of his mouth: for his love is better than wine.
3Sweet is the smell of your perfumes; your name is as perfume running out; so the young girls give you their love.
6Till the evening comes, and the sky slowly becomes dark, I will go to the mountain of myrrh, and to the hill of frankincense.
7You are all fair, my love; there is no mark on you.
8Come with me from Lebanon, my bride, with me from Lebanon; see from the top of Amana, from the top of Senir and Hermon, from the places of the lions, from the mountains of the leopards.
9You have taken away my heart, my sister, my bride; you have taken away my heart, with one look you have taken it, with one chain of your neck!
10How fair is your love, my sister! How much better is your love than wine, and the smell of your oils than any perfume!
11Your lips are dropping honey; honey and milk are under your tongue; and the smell of your clothing is like the smell of Lebanon.
5I am dark, but fair of form, O 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 loved one among the sons. I took my rest under his shade with great delight, and his fruit was sweet to my taste.
4He took me to the house of wine, and his flag over me was love.
5Make me strong with wine-cakes, let me be comforted with apples; I am overcome with love.
6His left hand is under my head, and his right hand is round about me.
7I say to you, O daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes of the field, do not let love be moved till it is ready.
5Your head is like Carmel, and the hair of your head is like purple, in whose net the king is prisoner.
6How beautiful and how sweet you are, O love, for delight.
1Where is your loved one gone, O most fair among women? Where is your loved one turned away, that we may go looking for him with you?
7Say, O love of my soul, where you give food to your flock, and where you make them take their rest in the heat of the day; why have I to be as one wandering by the flocks of your friends?
10My loved one said to me, Get up, my love, my fair one, and come away.
1I have come into my garden, my sister, my bride; to take my myrrh with my spice; my wax with my honey; my wine with my milk. Take meat, O friends; take wine, yes, be overcome with love.
2I am sleeping, but my heart is awake; it is the sound of my loved one at the door, saying, Be open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my very beautiful one; my head is wet with dew, and my hair with the drops of the night.
13As a bag of myrrh is my well-loved one to me, when he is at rest all night between my breasts.
14My love is to me as a branch of the cypress-tree in the vine-gardens of En-gedi.
15See, you are fair, my love, you are fair; you have the eyes of a dove.
9I have made a comparison of you, O my love, to a horse in Pharaoh's carriages.
9And the roof of your mouth like good wine flowing down smoothly for my loved one, moving gently over my lips and my teeth.
10I am for my loved one, and his desire is for me.
11Come, my loved one, let us go out into the field; let us take rest among the cypress-trees.
12Let us go out early to the vine-gardens; let us see if the vine is in bud, if it has put out its young fruit, and the pomegranate is in flower. There I will give you my love.
8I say to you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if you see my loved one, what will you say to him? That I am overcome with love.
9What is your loved one more than another, O fairest among women? What is your loved one more than another, that you say this to us?
3The watchmen who go about the town came by me; to them I said, Have you seen him who is my heart's desire?
4I was but a little way from them, when I came face to face with him who is the love of my soul. I took him by the hands, and did not let him go, till I had taken him into my mother's house, and into the room of her who gave me birth.
5I say to you, O daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes of the field, let not love be moved till it is ready.
6Who is this coming out of the waste places like pillars of smoke, perfumed with sweet spices, with all the spices of the trader?
2I would take you by the hand into my mother's house, and she would be my teacher. I would give you drink of spiced wine, drink of the pomegranate.
3His left hand would be under my head, and his right hand about me.
4I say to you, O daughters of Jerusalem, do not let love be moved till it is ready.
5Who is this, who comes up from the waste places, resting on her loved one? It was I who made you awake under the apple-tree, where your mother gave you birth; there she was in pain at your birth.
18Come, let us take our pleasure in love till the morning, having joy in love's delights.
16His mouth is most sweet; yes, he is all beautiful. This is my loved one, and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.
13You who have your resting-place in the gardens, the friends give ear to your voice; make me give ear to it.
14Come quickly, my loved one, and be like a roe on the mountains of spice.
4You are beautiful, O my love, as Tirzah, as fair as Jerusalem; you are to be feared like an army with flags.
15You are a fountain of gardens, a spring of living waters, and flowing waters from Lebanon.
16Be awake, O north wind; and come, O south, blowing on my garden, so that its spices may come out. Let my loved one come into his garden, and take of his good fruits.
1See, you are fair, my love, you are fair; you have the eyes of a dove; your hair is as a flock of goats, which take their rest on the side of Gilead.
13The fig-tree puts out her green fruit and the vines with their young fruit give a good smell. Get up from your bed, my beautiful one, and come away.
14O my dove, you are in the holes of the mountain sides, in the cracks of the high hills; let me see your face, let your voice come to my ears; for sweet is your voice, and your face is fair.
19As a loving hind and a gentle doe, let her breasts ever give you rapture; let your passion at all times be moved by her love.