Song of Songs 7:10
I am my beloueds, and he shall turne hym vnto me.
I am my beloueds, and he shall turne hym vnto me.
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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.
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.
6Set about me cuppes of wine, comfort me with apples, for I am sicke of loue.
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.
9Me thinke I heare the voyce of my beloued: lo, there commeth he hopping vpon the mountaines, and leaping ouer the litle hilles.
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.
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.
8I 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.
9And 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.
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:
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.
2O that he would kisse me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy loue is more pleasaunt then wine,
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.
8I charge you therfore O ye daughters of Hierusalem, yf ye fynde my beloued, that ye tell hym howe that I am sicke for loue.
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.
6O Howe faire and louely art thou my dearlyng in pleasures?
3His left hande shalbe vnder my head, and his ryght hande shall imbrace me.
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?
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.
10O 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.
11Thy 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.
12A garden well locked is my sister, my spouse: a garden well locked, and a sealed well.
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.
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.
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.
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.
4Drawe 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.
1Nowe 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.
18Come let vs take our fill of loue vntyll the morning, and let vs solace our selues with the pleasures of loue.
10I am a wall, and my brestes lyke towres, then was I as one that hath founde fauour in his syght.
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.
16Up 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.
1I am the rose of the fielde, and lillie of the valleys,