Song of Songs 1:5
I am black (o ye doughters of Ierusale) like as the tentes of the Cedarenes, and as the hanginges of Salomon:
I am black (o ye doughters of Ierusale) like as the tentes of the Cedarenes, and as the hanginges of Salomon:
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6but yet am I faire & welfauoured withal. Maruell not at me yt I am so black, & why? ye Sonne hath shyned vpo me. For whan my mothers childre had euell wil at me, they made me ye keper of the vynyarde. Thus was I fayne to kepe a vynyarde, which was not myne owne.
7Tell me (o thou whom my soule loueth) where thou fedest, where thou restest at the noone daye: lest I go wronge, and come vnto the flockes of thy companyons,
8Yf thou knowe not yi self (o thou fayrest amoge women) tha go yi waye forth after ye fotesteppes of the shepe, as though thou woldest fede yi goates besyde ye shepherdes tentes.
9There wil I tary for the (my loue) wt myne hoost & with my charettes, which shalbe no fewer then Pharaos.
10Then shal thy chekes & thy neck be made fayre, & hanged wt spages & goodly iewels:
4yee that same moueth me also to renne after the. The kynge hath brought me into his preuy chambre. We wil be glad & reioyce in the, we thynke more of thy brestes then of wyne: well is them that loue the.
7So the watchmen that wente aboute the cite, foude me, smote me, and wounded me: Yee they that kepte the walles, toke awaye my garmet fro me.
8I charge you therfore (o ye doughters of Ierusalem) yf ye fynde my beloued, that ye tell him, how that I am sick for loue.
9Who is thy loue aboue other louers, O thou fayrest amonge wemen? Or, what can thy loue do, more then other louers, that thou chargest vs so straitly?
10As for my loue, he is whyte and reade coloured, a synguler personne amonge many thousandes:
11his heade is the most fyne golde, the lockes of his hayre are bu?shed, browne as the euenynge:
4Thou art pleasaunt (o my loue) euen as louelynesse itself, thou art fayre as Ierusalem, glorious as an armye of men with their baners
5(Turne awaye thine eyes fro me, for they make me to proude) Thy hayrie lockes are like a flocke of goates vpon ye mount of Galaad.
30My skynne vpo me is turned to black, & my bones are bret wt heate:
14A cluster of grapes of Cypers, or of the vynyardes of Engaddi, art thou vnto me, O my beloued.
15O how fayre art thou (my loue) how fayre art thou? thou hast doues eyes.
16O how fayre art thou (my beloued) how well fauored art thou? Oure bed is decte with floures,
6O that I might go to the mountayne of Myrre, and to the hyll of frankynsense: till the daye breake, and till the shadowes be past awaye.
7Thou art all fayre (o my loue) & no spott is there in the.
8Come to me from Libanus (o my spouse) come to me from Libanus: come soone the next waye from the toppe of Amana, from the toppe of Sanir and Hermon, from the Lyons dennes and from the mountaynes of ye leopardes.
9But one is my doue, my derlynge. She is the onely beloued of hir mother, & deare vnto her that bare her. Wha the daughters sawe her, they sayde she was blessed: Yee the quenes and concubines praysed her.
10What is she this, that pepeth out as the mornynge? fayre as the Moone, excellent as the Sonne, glorious as an armye of men with their banners?
4Thy neck is as it were a tower of yuery: Thyne eyes are like ye water poles in Hesebon, besyde the porte of Bathrabbim: Thy nose is like the tower of Libanus, which loketh towarde Damascus:
5That heade that stondeth vpon the is like Carmel: The hayre of thy heade is like the kynges purple folden vp in plates.
6O how fayre and louely art thou (my derlynge) in pleasures?
1O how fayre art thou (my loue) how fayre art thou? thou hast doues eyes besyde that which lyeth hid within.
10There wil I turne me vnto my loue, and he shal turne him vnto me.
5I charge you (o ye doughters of Ierusale) by the Roes and hyndes of the felde, that ye wake not vp my loue ner touch her, till she be content herself.
6Who is this, that commeth out of ye wyldernesse like pilers of smoke, as it were a smell of Myrre, frankencense and all maner spyces of the Apotecary?
7Hir absteyners (or Nazarees) were whyter then ye snowe or mylke: their coloure was fresh read as the Corall, their beutie like the Saphyre.
8But now their faces are very black: In so moch, that thou shuldest not knowe them in the stretes. Their skynne cleueth to their bones, It is wythered, and become like a drye stock.
15His legges are as the pilers of Marbell, sett vpon sokettes of golde: His face is as Libanus, and as the bewty of the Cedre trees:
16His throte is swete, yee he is alltogether louely. Soch one is my loue (o ye doughters of Ierusalem) soch one is my loue.
1I am the floure of the felde, and lylie of the valleys:
2as the rose amonge the thornes, so is my loue amonge the daughters.
3Like as the aple tre amonge the trees of the wodd, so is my beloued amonge the sonnes. My delite is to sitt vnder his shadowe, for his frute is swete vnto my throte.
10My beloued answered & sayde vnto me: O stode vp my loue, my doue, my beutyfull, & come:
12Then the charettes of the prynce of my people made me sodenly afrayed.
1Whither is thy loue gone the (o thou fayrest amonge weme) whither is thy loue departed, that we maye seke him with the?
11Go forth (o ye doughters of Sion) and beholde kynge Salomon in the crowne, wherwith his mother crowned him in the daye of his mariage, and in the daye of the gladnesse of his hert.
1Come in to my garden o my sister, my spouse: I haue gathered my Myrre wt my spyce. I wil eate my hony and my hony cobe, I wil drynke my wyne & my mylk Eate o (ye frendes) drynke and be mery, o ye beloued.
2As I was a slepe, & my hert wakynge, I herde the voyce of my beloued, wha he knocked. Open to me (sayde he) o my sister, my loue, my doue, my derlinge: for my heade is full of dew, and ye lockes of my hayre are full of the night droppes.
10Yf I be a wall, & my brestes like towres, then am I as one that hath founde fauoure in his sight.
10O how fayre and louely are thy brestes, my sister, my spouse? Thy brestes are more pleasaunt then wyne, and the smell of thy oyntmentes passeth all spices.
3Thy lippes are like a rose coloured rybende, thy wordes are louely: thy chekes are like a pece of a pomgranate, besydes that which lyed hyd within.
2I will licken the doughter Sion to a fayre and tendre woman, and to her shall come the shepherdes with their flockes.
2O that thy mouth wolde geue me a kysse, for yi brestes are more pleasaunt then wyne,
4I charge you (o ye daughters of Ierusale) that ye wake not vp my loue ner touch her, tyll she be content herself.
5What is she this, that cometh vp from the wildernes, and leaneth vpon hir loue? I am the same that waked the vp amonge the aple trees, where thy mother beare ye, where yi mother brought the in to the worlde.
7I charge you (o ye doughters of Ierusalem (by the Roes & hyndes of the felde, yt ye wake not vp my loue ner touch her, till she be content herself.