Song of Songs 6:2
My loue is gone downe into his garden vnto the sweete smellyng beddes, that he may refreshe hym selfe in the garden, & gather lilies.
My loue is gone downe into his garden vnto the sweete smellyng beddes, that he may refreshe hym selfe in the garden, & gather lilies.
These verses are found using AI-powered semantic similarity based on meaning and context. Results may occasionally include unexpected connections.
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.
1 Whyther is thy loue gone then O thou fairest among women? whyther is thy loue departed, and we wyll seke hym with thee?
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.
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.
11 My beloued aunswered and sayd vnto me: O stande vp my loue, my beautifull, and go to thyne owne: for lo the winter is nowe past, the rayne is away and gone.
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.
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 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.
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.
5 I stoode vp to open vnto my beloued, and my handes dropped with Myrre, & the Myrre ranne downe my fingers vpon the locke.
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.
5 Thy two breastes are lyke two twinnes of young Roes, whiche feede among roses.
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.
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.
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.
3 Like as the apple tree among the trees of the wood: so is my beloued among the sonnes.
4 My delight is to sit vnder his shadowe, for his fruite is sweete vnto my throte.
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.
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.
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.
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 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?
6 O Howe faire and louely art thou my dearlyng in pleasures?
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 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.
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.
16 O howe fayre art thou my beloued, howe well fauoured art thou? Our bed is dect with flowres,
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?
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:
6 Set about me cuppes of wine, comfort me with apples, for I am sicke of loue.