Song of Songs 4:6
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.
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.
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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.
5 Thy two breastes are lyke two twinnes of young Roes, whiche feede among roses.
12 When the king sitteth at the table, he shall smell my Nardus:
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.
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.
5 I 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.
6 Who 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?
14 O get thee away my loue, and be as a roe or a young hart vpon the sweete smellyng mountaynes.
6 Set about me cuppes of wine, comfort me with apples, for I am sicke of loue.
7 His left hande lyeth vnder my head, and his right hande shall imbrace me.
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.
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:
7 Thou art all fayre (O my loue) and no spot is there in thee.
8 Come 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.
9 Thou 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.
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.
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.
4 Thou are beautifull O my loue as is the place Thirza, thou art faire as Hierusalem, fearefull as an armie of men with their banners.
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.
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.
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.
2 I 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.
4 I charge you O ye daughters of Hierusalem that ye wake not vp my loue, nor touche her, tyll she be content her selfe.
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.
3 and that because of the good and pleasaunt sauour of thy most precious baulmes. Thy name is a sweet smelling oyntment when it is shed foorth, therfore do the maydens loue thee.
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.
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?
8 If thou knowe not thy selfe (O thou fayrest among women) then go thy way foorth after the footesteppes of the sheepe, and feede thy goates besyde the shepheardes tentes.
9 Unto the hoast of Pharaos charets haue I compared thee, O my loue.
17 My bed haue I made to smell of Myrre, Aloes, and Cinamon.
18 Come let vs take our fill of loue vntyll the morning, and let vs solace our selues with the pleasures of loue.
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 What is she this that loketh foorth as the mornyng, faire as the moone, cleare as the sunne, and fearfull as an armie of men with their banners?
13 His cheekes are lyke a garden bed, wherin the Apothecaries plant all maner of sweete thynges. His lippes are lyke lilies that droppe sweete smellyng Myrre:
3 Thy two breastes are lyke two twinnes of young roes.
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,
2 I 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.