Song of Songs 5:3
I haue put off my cote, how ca I do it on agayne? I haue washed my fete, how shal I fyle them agayne?
I haue put off my cote, how ca I do it on agayne? I haue washed my fete, how shal I fyle them agayne?
These verses are found using AI-powered semantic similarity based on meaning and context. Results may occasionally include unexpected connections.
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.
4But whan my loue put in his hande at the hole, my hert was moued towarde him:
5so that I stode vp to open vnto my beloued. My hades dropped wt Myrre, & the Myrre ranne downe my fyngers vpon ye lock.
6Neuerthelesse wha I had opened vnto my beloued, he was departed, and gone his waye. Now like as afore tyme whan he spake, my hert coude no longer refrayne: Euen so now I sought hi, but I coude not fynde him: I cried vpon him, neuerthelesse he gaue me no answere.
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?
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.
15O thou beloued, why doest thou so shamefull greate blasphemies in my house? euen as though that holy flesh might absolue the, specially when thou hast made thy boost off thy wickednes.
17My bed haue I made to smell of Myrre, Aloes and Cynamom.
18Come, let vs lye together, & take oure pleasure till it be daye light.
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.
10My beloued answered & sayde vnto me: O stode vp my loue, my doue, my beutyfull, & come:
1By night in my bedd, I sought him, whom my soule loueth: yee diligently sought I him, but I founde him not.
2I wil get vp (thought I) and go aboute the cite: vpon the market and in all ye stretes will I seke him whom my soule loueth, but whan I sought him, I founde him not.
3The watchmen that go aboute ye cite, founde me. Sawe ye not him, whom my soule loueth?
4So whan I was a litle past them, I foude him whom my soule loueth. I haue gotten holde vpon him, and wyl not let him go, vntill I brynge him into my mothers house, and in to hir chambre that bare 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?
1Whither is thy loue gone the (o thou fayrest amonge weme) whither is thy loue departed, that we maye seke him with the?
2My loue is gone downe in to his garden, vnto ye swete smellinge beddes, that he maye refresh himself in the garden, and gather floures.
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.
5Afterwarde poured he water into a basen, and beganne to wash the disciples fete, and dryed them with the towell, yt he was gyrded withall.
6Then came he vnto Symon Peter, and ye same sayde vnto him: LORDE, shalt thou washe my fete?
10There wil I turne me vnto my loue, and he shal turne him vnto me.
11O come on my loue, let vs go forth in to the felde, and take oure lodginge in the vyllages.
30Though I wasshed my self with snowe water, and made myne hondes neuer so clene,
13for a bodell of Myrre (o my beloued) lyeth betwixte my brestes.
14A cluster of grapes of Cypers, or of the vynyardes of Engaddi, art thou vnto me, O my beloued.
9Thou 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.
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.
3Bathe thyselfe therfore, and moffell the, and put on thy clothes, and go downe vnto the barne, so yt noma knowe the, tyll they haue all eaten and dronken.
9Then wa?shed I the with water, & pourged thy bloude from the. I anoynted the with oyle,
23As for me and my brethren, & my seruauntes, and ye men of the watch behynde me, we put neuer of oure clothes, so so moch as to washe oure selues.
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.
5I am black (o ye doughters of Ierusale) like as the tentes of the Cedarenes, and as the hanginges of Salomon:
12Thou art a well kepte garden (o my sister, my spouse) thou art a well kepte water sprynge, a sealed well.
3His left hande lyeth vnder my heade, & his right hande embraceth me.
4I charge you (o ye daughters of Ierusale) that ye wake not vp my loue ner touch her, tyll she be content herself.
2Wherfore the is thy clothinge reade, & thy raymet like his yt treadeth in ye wyne presse?
17vntill 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.
6His left hade lyeth vnder my heade, & his right hande enbraceth me.
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.
1O that I might fynde the without & kysse ye, whom I loue as my brother which suckte my mothers brestes: & that thou woldest not be offended,
15Therfore came I forth to mete the, that I might seke thy face, and so I haue founde the.
6O how fayre and louely art thou (my derlynge) in pleasures?
1Now 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.