Song of Songs 2:9
Me thinke I heare the voyce of my beloued: lo, there commeth he hopping vpon the mountaines, and leaping ouer the litle hilles.
Me thinke I heare the voyce of my beloued: lo, there commeth he hopping vpon the mountaines, and leaping ouer the litle hilles.
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7His left hande lyeth vnder my head, and his right hande shall imbrace me.
8I 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.
10My 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.
16My loue is mine, & I am his, whiche feedeth among the lillies vntill the day breake, and till the shadowes be gone:
17Come agayne O my beloued, and be lyke as a roe or a young hart vpon the wyde mountaines.
13Thou that dwellest in the gardens, O let me heare thy voyce, that my companions may hearken to the same.
14O get thee away my loue, and be as a roe or a young hart vpon the sweete smellyng mountaynes.
13The figge tree bryngeth foorth her figges, and the vines beare blossomes and haue a good smell.
14O 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.
13a bundell of myrre is my loue vnto me, he wyll lye betwixt my brestes:
14a cluster of Camphire in the vineyardes of Engaddi is my loue vnto me.
15Oh howe fayre art thou my loue, Oh howe fayre art thou? thou hast doues eyes.
16O howe fayre art thou my beloued, howe well fauoured art thou? Our bed is dect with flowres,
10I am my beloueds, and he shall turne hym vnto me.
11O come on my loue, we wyll go foorth into the fielde, and take our lodgyng in the villages.
12In 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:
1I 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.
2I am a sleepe, but my heart is waking: I heare the voyce of my beloued when he knocketh, saying, Open to me O my sister, my loue, my doue, my dearling: for my head is full of deawe, and the lockes of my heere are full of the nyght doppes.
1Whyther is thy loue gone then O thou fairest among women? whyther is thy loue departed, and we wyll seke hym with thee?
2My loue is gone downe into his garden vnto the sweete smellyng beddes, that he may refreshe hym selfe in the garden, & gather lilies.
3My loue is myne, and I am his, which feedeth among the lilies.
4Thou are beautifull O my loue as is the place Thirza, thou art faire as Hierusalem, fearefull as an armie of men with their banners.
5Turne away thine eyes from me, for they haue set me on fire: Thy heery lockes are lyke a flocke of goates shorne vpon the mount of Gilead.
9What 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?
10As for my loue, he is whyte and red coloured, a goodly person among tenne thousande.
4My loue put in his hande at the hole, and my heart was moued within me.
5I stoode vp to open vnto my beloued, and my handes dropped with Myrre, & the Myrre ranne downe my fingers vpon the locke.
6I opened vnto my beloued, but he was departed and gone his way: Now whe he spake, my heart was gone: I sought him, but I coulde not finde him: I cryed vpon hym, neuerthelesse he gaue me no aunswere.
7So the watchmen that went about the citie, founde me, smote me, and wounded me: yea they that kept the walles toke away my kerchaffe from me.
2I will get vp thought & go about the citie, in the wayes in all the streates wyll I seeke hym whom my soule loueth: but when I sought him I founde him not.
3The watchmen also that go about the citie, founde me to whom I sayde Sawe ye not hym whom my soule loueth?
4So 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.
5I charge you O ye daughters of Hierusalem by the roes and hyndes of the fielde, that ye wake not vp my loue, nor touch her, till she be content her self.
6Who is this that commeth vp out of the wyldernesse like vapours of smoke, as it were a smell of myrre, frankensence, and all maner spices of the Apothecarie?
3Like as the apple tree among the trees of the wood: so is my beloued among the sonnes.
4My delight is to sit vnder his shadowe, for his fruite is sweete vnto my throte.
5Thy two breastes are lyke two twinnes of young Roes, whiche feede among roses.
6O 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.
7Thou art all fayre (O my loue) and no spot is there in thee.
8Come to me from Libanus (O my spouse) come to me from Libanus: looke from the top of Amana, from the top of Sanir and Hermon, from the lions dennes, and from the mountaines of the leopardes.
9Thou hast with loue bewitched my heart O my sister my spouse, thou hast bewitched my heart with one of thyne eyes, and with one chayne of thy necke.
1O howe fayre art thou my loue, howe fayre art thou? thou hast doues eyes, beside that which lyeth hid within: Thy heerie lockes are lyke the wooll of a flocke of goates that be shorne vpon mount Gilead.
15His legges are as the pillers of Marble set vpon sockettes of golde. His face is as Libanus: and as the beautie of the Cedar trees.
16The 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.
6O Howe faire and louely art thou my dearlyng in pleasures?
7Tell 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?
9Unto the hoast of Pharaos charets haue I compared thee, O my loue.
3Thy two breastes are lyke two twinnes of young roes.
6For at the windowe of my house I loked through the windowe,
19Let her be as the louyng Hinde and pleasaunt Roe: let her breastes alway satisfie thee, and holde thee euer content with her loue.