Song of Songs 4:16
Vp thou northwynde, come thou southwynde, and blowe vpo my garde, that the smell therof maye be caried on euery syde: Yee that my beloued maye come in to my garden, & eate of the frutes and apples that growe therin.
Vp thou northwynde, come thou southwynde, and blowe vpo my garde, that the smell therof maye be caried on euery syde: Yee that my beloued maye come in to my garden, & eate of the frutes and apples that growe therin.
These verses are found using AI-powered semantic similarity based on meaning and context. Results may occasionally include unexpected connections.
8 Come 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.
9 Thou hast wouded my hert (o my sister, my spouse) thou hast wounded my hert, with one of thine eyes, and with one cheyne of thy neck.
10 O 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.
11 Thy lippes (o my spouse) droppe as the hony combe, yee mylck and hony is vnder thy tonge, and the smell of thy garmentes is like the smell of frankynsense.
12 Thou art a well kepte garden (o my sister, my spouse) thou art a well kepte water sprynge, a sealed well.
13 The frutes that sproute in the, are like a very paradyse of pogranates wt swete frutes:
14 as Cypresse, Nardus, Saffron, Calmus, and all the trees of Libanus: Myrre, Aloes, and all the best spyces.
15 Thou art a well of gardens, a well of lyuynge waters, which renne downe from Libanus.
1 Come 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.
2 As 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.
10 My beloued answered & sayde vnto me: O stode vp my loue, my doue, my beutyfull, & come:
11 for lo, the wynter is now past, the rayne is awaie & gone.
12 The floures are come vp in the felde, the twystinge tyme is come, the voyce of the turtle doue is herde in oure londe.
13 The fyge tre bryngeth forth hir fyges, the vynes beare blossoms, and haue a good smell. O stode vp my loue, my beutyfull, and come
14 (my doue) out of the caues of the rockes, out of the holes of the wall: O let me se thy countenaunce and heare thy voyce, for swete is thy voyce and fayre is thy face.
1 Whither is thy loue gone the (o thou fayrest amonge weme) whither is thy loue departed, that we maye seke him with the?
2 My loue is gone downe in to his garden, vnto ye swete smellinge beddes, that he maye refresh himself in the garden, and gather floures.
3 My loue is myne, and I am his, which fedeth amonge the lilies.
8 I wil clymme vp into the date tre, and take holde of his braunches. Thy brestes also shalbe as the vyne grapes, the smell of thy nostrels like the smell of apples,
9 and thy throte like the best wyne. This shalbe pure & cleare for my loue, his lippes and teth shal haue their pleasure.
10 There wil I turne me vnto my loue, and he shal turne him vnto me.
11 O come on my loue, let vs go forth in to the felde, and take oure lodginge in the vyllages.
12 In the mornynge wil we ryse by tymes, and go se the vynyarde: yf it be spronge forth, yf the grapes be growne, & yf the pomgranates be shott out. There wil I geue the my brestes:
13 There shal the Mandragoras geue their smell besyde oure dores: There (o my loue) haue I kepte vnto the all maner of frutes, both new and olde.
13 Thou that dwellest in the gardens, O let me heare thy voyce, that my companyons maye herken to the same.
14 O get the awaye (my loue) as a roo or a yonge hert vnto the swete smellinge moutaynes.
12 When the kynge sytteth at the table, he shal smell my Nardus:
13 for a bodell of Myrre (o my beloued) lyeth betwixte my brestes.
14 A cluster of grapes of Cypers, or of the vynyardes of Engaddi, art thou vnto me, O my beloued.
6 O 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.
5 I 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.
6 Who 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?
4 I charge you (o ye daughters of Ierusale) that ye wake not vp my loue ner touch her, tyll she be content herself.
5 What 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.
16 My loue is myne, and I am his, (which fedeth amoge the lylies)
17 vntill the daye breake, and till the shadowes be gone. Come agayne preuely (o my beloued) like as a Roo or a yonge harte vnto the mountaynes.
3 Like 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.
4 He bryngeth me in to his wyne seller, and loueth me specially well.
18 Come, let vs lye together, & take oure pleasure till it be daye light.
1 Now well than, I will synge my beloued frende a songe of his vynyearde. My beloued frende hath a vyneyearde in a very frutefull plenteous grounde.
2 O that thy mouth wolde geue me a kysse, for yi brestes are more pleasaunt then wyne,
11 I wente downe in to the nutt garden, to se what grew by the brokes, to loke yf the vynyarde florished, and yf the pomgranates were shot forth.
4 yee 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.
7 I 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.
8 Me thynke I heare the voyce of my beloued: lo, there commeth he hoppinge vpon ye mountaynes, and leapinge ouer the litle hilles.
16 His throte is swete, yee he is alltogether louely. Soch one is my loue (o ye doughters of Ierusalem) soch one is my loue.
16 O how fayre art thou (my beloued) how well fauored art thou? Oure bed is decte with floures,
7 Tell 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,
4 But whan my loue put in his hande at the hole, my hert was moued towarde him:
6 O how fayre and louely art thou (my derlynge) in pleasures?