Song of Songs 5:7
So 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.
So 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.
These verses are found using AI-powered semantic similarity based on meaning and context. Results may occasionally include unexpected connections.
1 By night in my bedd, I sought him, whom my soule loueth: yee diligently sought I him, but I founde him not.
2 I 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.
3 The watchmen that go aboute ye cite, founde me. Sawe ye not him, whom my soule loueth?
4 So 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.
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?
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.
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?
4 But whan my loue put in his hande at the hole, my hert was moued towarde him:
5 so that I stode vp to open vnto my beloued. My hades dropped wt Myrre, & the Myrre ranne downe my fyngers vpon ye lock.
6 Neuerthelesse 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.
8 I charge you therfore (o ye doughters of Ierusalem) yf ye fynde my beloued, that ye tell him, how that I am sick for loue.
9 Who 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?
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.
5 I am black (o ye doughters of Ierusale) like as the tentes of the Cedarenes, and as the hanginges of Salomon:
6 but 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.
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,
6 For out of the wyndowe of my house I loked thorow the trelies,
4 He bryngeth me in to his wyne seller, and loueth me specially well.
5 Refresh me wt grapes, coforte me with apples, for I am sick of loue.
6 His left hade lyeth vnder my heade, & his right hande enbraceth me.
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.
9 My beloued is like a Roo or a yonge hart. Beholde, he stondeth behynde or wall, he loketh in at the wyndowe, & pepeth thorow the grate.
10 My beloued answered & sayde vnto me: O stode vp my loue, my doue, my beutyfull, & come:
4 Thou 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.
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:
35 They wounded me (shalt thou saie) but it hath not hurte me, they smote me, but I felt it not. Whe I am wel wakened, I wil go to ye drynke agayne.
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.
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.
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.
10 Yf I be a wall, & my brestes like towres, then am I as one that hath founde fauoure in his sight.
10 What 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?
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.
12 Then the charettes of the prynce of my people made me sodenly afrayed.
8 goinge ouer the stretes, by the corner in the waye towarde the harlottes house
19 I called for my louers (but they begyled me:) for my prestes and councelers, but they perished: euen while they sought for meate, to saue their lyues.
51 Myne eye breaketh my herte, because of all the doughters of my cite.
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.
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.
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.
2 She wepeth sore in the night, so that ye teares runne downe hir chekes: for amonge all hir louers, there is none, that geueth her eny comforte: yee hir nexte frendes abhorre her, & are become hir enemies.
13 she caught ye yoge ma, kyssed him & was not ashamed, sayege: