Song of Songs 5:8
I charge you therfore O ye daughters of Hierusalem, yf ye fynde my beloued, that ye tell hym howe that I am sicke for loue.
I charge you therfore O ye daughters of Hierusalem, yf ye fynde my beloued, that ye tell hym howe that I am sicke for loue.
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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.
1 By night in my bed I sought hym whom my soule loueth: yea diligently sought I him, but I found him not.
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.
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.
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?
3 His left hande shalbe vnder my head, and his ryght hande shall imbrace me.
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.
6 O set me as a seale vpon thine heart, and as a seale vpon thine arme: for loue is myghtie as the death, and gelousie as the hell.
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.
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.
6 I 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.
7 So 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.
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.
5 Turne 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.
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.
10 I am my beloueds, and he shall turne hym vnto me.
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.
3 I haue put of my coate, howe can I do it on agayne? I haue washed my feete, howe shall I fyle them agayne?
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.
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.
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.
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.
5 I am blacke (O ye daughters of Hierusalem) but yet fayre and well fauoured, like as the tentes of the Cedarenes, and as the hanginges of Solomon.
6 O Howe faire and louely art thou my dearlyng in pleasures?
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.
15 Oh howe fayre art thou my loue, Oh howe fayre art thou? thou hast doues eyes.
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 O that I might finde thee without and kisse thee, whom I loue as my brother whiche suckt my mothers brestes, and that thou shalt not be dispised,
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:
2 As the lillie among the thornes: so is my loue among the daughters.
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.
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?
16 My loue is mine, & I am his, whiche feedeth among the lillies vntill the day breake, and till the shadowes be gone: