Song of Songs 2:3
Like as the apple tree among the trees of the wood: so is my beloued among the sonnes.
Like as the apple tree among the trees of the wood: so is my beloued among the sonnes.
These verses are found using AI-powered semantic similarity based on meaning and context. Results may occasionally include unexpected connections.
1 I am the rose of the fielde, and lillie of the valleys,
2 As the lillie among the thornes: so is my loue among the daughters.
4 My delight is to sit vnder his shadowe, for his fruite is sweete vnto my throte.
5 He bringeth me into his wine seller, his banner spread ouer me, whiche is his loue.
6 Set about me cuppes of wine, comfort me with apples, for I am sicke of loue.
13 a bundell of myrre is my loue vnto me, he wyll lye betwixt my brestes:
14 a cluster of Camphire in the vineyardes of Engaddi is my loue vnto me.
5 (What is she this that cometh vp from the wildernesse, and leaneth vpon her loue?) I wake thee vp among the apple trees where thy mother conceaued thee, where thy mother I say brought thee into the worlde.
16 My loue is mine, & I am his, whiche feedeth among the lillies vntill the day breake, and till the shadowes be gone:
17 Come agayne O my beloued, and be lyke as a roe or a young hart vpon the wyde mountaines.
13 The figge tree bryngeth foorth her figges, and the vines beare blossomes and haue a good smell.
14 O stande vp then and come my loue my beautifull, and come I say O my doue, out of the caues of the rockes, out of the holes of the wall, O let me see thy countenaunce and heare thy voyce: for sweete is thy voyce, and fayre is thy face.
6 O Howe faire and louely art thou my dearlyng in pleasures?
7 Thy stature is lyke a paulme tree, and thy breastes lyke the grapes.
8 I sayde, I wyll climbe vp into the paulme tree, and take holde of his hye braunches. Thy breastes also shalbe as the wine clusters, the smell of thy nosethrilles like as the smell of apples.
9 And thy rooffe of thy mouth lyke the best wine, which is meete for my best beloued, pleasaunt for his lippes, and for his teeth to chawe.
10 I am my beloueds, and he shall turne hym vnto me.
11 O come on my loue, we wyll go foorth into the fielde, and take our lodgyng in the villages.
12 In the mornyng wyll we go see the vineyarde, we wyll see yf the vine be sprong foorth, yf the grapes be growen, and yf the pomegranates be shot out. There will I geue thee my brestes:
13 the Mandragoras geue their sweete smell, and besyde our doores are all maner of pleasaunt fruites both newe and olde, which I haue kept for thee O my beloued.
1 Whyther is thy loue gone then O thou fairest among women? whyther is thy loue departed, and we wyll seke hym with thee?
2 My loue is gone downe into his garden vnto the sweete smellyng beddes, that he may refreshe hym selfe in the garden, & gather lilies.
3 My loue is myne, and I am his, which feedeth among the lilies.
1 I am come into my garden, O my sister, my spouse, I haue gathered my Myrre with my spice: I haue eate hony with my hony combe, I haue drunke my wine with my milke: Eate O ye frendes, drinke and be merie O ye beloued.
16 The wordes of his mouth are sweete: yea he is altogether louely: Such a one is my loue O ye daughters of Hierusalem, such a one is my loue.
8 I charge you (O ye daughters of Hierusalem) by the roes and hindes of the fiede, that ye wake not vp my loue, nor touche her, tyll she be content her selfe.
9 Me thinke I heare the voyce of my beloued: lo, there commeth he hopping vpon the mountaines, and leaping ouer the litle hilles.
10 My beloued is lyke a roe or a young hart: beholde he standeth behinde our wall, he looketh in at the windowe, and peepeth thorowe the grace.
9 What maner of man is thy loue aboue other louers, O thou fairest among women? Or what can thy loue do more then other louers, that thou chargest vs so straytly?
10 As for my loue, he is whyte and red coloured, a goodly person among tenne thousande.
7 Tell me O thou whom my soule loueth, where thou feedest the sheepe, where thou makest them rest at the noone day: for why shall I be like hym that goeth wrong about the flockes of thy companions?
16 O howe fayre art thou my beloued, howe well fauoured art thou? Our bed is dect with flowres,
17 the seelinges of our house are of Cedar tree, and our crosse ioyntes of Cipresse.
1 Nowe wyll I syng my beloued friende, a song of my friende touching his vineyard: My beloued friende hath a vineyarde in a very fruiteful plenteous grounde.
15 a well of gardens, a well of liuing waters which runne downe from Libanus.
16 Up thou north winde, come thou south winde and blowe vpon my garden, that the smell therof may be caryed on euery side: yea that my beloued may come into his garden, and eate of the sweete fruites that growe therein.
10 O howe fayre are thy breastes, my sister, my spouse? Thy breastes are more pleasaunt then wine, and the smell of thyne oyntmentes passeth all spices.
11 Thy lippes, O my spouse, drop as the hony combe, yea mylke and hony is vnder thy tongue, and the smell of thy garmentes is like the smell of Libanus.
12 A garden well locked is my sister, my spouse: a garden well locked, and a sealed well.
13 The fruites that are planted in thee, are lyke a very paradise of pomegranates with sweete fruites, as Camphire, Nardus,
6 O that I might go to the mountaine of myrre, and to the hil of frankencense, til the day breake, and til the shadowes be past away.
2 O that he would kisse me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy loue is more pleasaunt then wine,
11 I went downe into the nut garden to see what grewe by the brookes, and to loke yf the vineyarde florished, or yf the pomegranates were not foorth.
4 Drawe thou me vnto thee we wyll runne after thee. The kyng hath brought me into his priuie chaumbers: We wylbe glad and reioyce in thee, we thinke more of thy loue then of wine: they that be righteous loue thee.
3 The watchmen also that go about the citie, founde me to whom I sayde Sawe ye not hym whom my soule loueth?
4 So when I was a litle past them, I founde him whom my soule loueth: I haue gotten holde vpon hym, and wyll not let him go, vntyll I bryng him into my mothers house, and into her chaumber that bare me.
13 Thou that dwellest in the gardens, O let me heare thy voyce, that my companions may hearken to the same.
14 O get thee away my loue, and be as a roe or a young hart vpon the sweete smellyng mountaynes.
3 His left hande shalbe vnder my head, and his ryght hande shall imbrace me.
6 His braunches shal spreade out abrode, and be as faire as the oliue tree, & smell as Libanus.