Song of Songs 1:2
Let him kisse me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy loue is better then wine.
Let him kisse me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy loue is better then wine.
These verses are found using AI-powered semantic similarity based on meaning and context. Results may occasionally include unexpected connections.
3 Because of the sauour of thy good ointments thy name is as an ointment powred out: therefore the virgins loue thee.
4 Drawe me: we will runne after thee: the King hath brought me into his chabers: we will reioyce and be glad in thee: we will remember thy loue more then wine: the righteous do loue thee.
9 My sister, my spouse, thou hast wounded mine heart: thou hast wounded mine heart with one of thine eyes, and with a chaine of thy necke.
10 My sister, my spouse, how faire is thy loue? howe much better is thy loue then wine? and the sauour of thine oyntments then all spices?
11 Thy lippes, my spouse, droppe as honie combes: honie and milke are vnder thy tongue, and the sauoure of thy garments is as the sauoure of Lebanon.
12 My sister my spouse is as a garden inclosed, as a spring shut vp, and a fountaine sealed vp.
9 And the roufe of thy mouth like good wine, which goeth straight to my welbeloued, and causeth the lippes of the ancient to speake.
10 I am my welbeloueds, and his desire is toward mee.
1 An excellent song which was Salomons.
16 His mouth is as sweete thinges, and hee is wholy delectable: this is my welbeloued, and this is my louer, O daughters of Ierusalem.
1 I am come into my garden, my sister, my spouse: I gathered my myrrhe with my spice: I ate mine hony combe with mine hony, I dranke my wine with my milke: eate, O friends, drinke, and make you mery, O welbeloued.
2 I sleepe, but mine heart waketh, it is the voyce of my welbeloued that knocketh, saying, Open vnto mee, my sister, my loue, my doue, my vndefiled: for mine head is full of dewe, and my lockes with the droppes of the night.
6 Howe faire art thou, and howe pleasant art thou, O my loue, in pleasures!
12 Whiles the King was at his repast, my spikenard gaue the smell thereof.
13 My welbeloued is as a bundle of myrrhe vnto me: he shall lie betweene my breasts.
14 My welbeloued is as a cluster of camphire vnto me in the vines of Engedi.
15 My loue, beholde, thou art faire: beholde, thou art faire: thine eyes are like the doues.
10 My welbeloued spake and said vnto me, Arise, my loue, my faire one, and come thy way.
12 Let vs get vp early to the vines, let vs see if the vine florish, whether it hath budded the small grape, or whether the pomegranates florish: there will I giue thee my loue.
18 Come, let vs take our fill of loue vntill the morning: let vs take our pleasure in daliance.
3 Like the apple tree among the trees of the forest, so is my welbeloued among the sonnes of men: vnder his shadow had I delite, & sate downe: and his fruite was sweete vnto my mouth.
4 Hee brought mee into the wine cellar, and loue was his banner ouer me.
5 Stay me with flagons, and comfort me with apples: for I am sicke of loue.
6 His left hande is vnder mine head, and his right hand doeth imbrace me.
13 His cheekes are as a bedde of spices, and as sweete flowres, and his lippes like lilies dropping downe pure myrrhe.
1 Oh that thou werest as my brother that sucked the brestes of my mother: I would finde thee without, I would kisse thee, then they should not despise thee.
2 I will leade thee and bring thee into my mothers house: there thou shalt teache me: and I will cause thee to drinke spiced wine, and newe wine of the pomegranate.
3 His left hand shalbe vnder mine head, and his right hand shall embrace me.
9 O the fairest among women, what is thy welbeloued more then other welbeloued? what is thy welbeloued more then another louer, that thou doest so charge vs?
10 My welbeloued is white and ruddie, the chiefest of ten thousand.
9 I haue compared thee, O my loue, to the troupe of horses in the charets of Pharaoh.
10 Thy cheekes are comely with rowes of stones, and thy necke with chaines.
6 Vntill the day breake, and the shadowes flie away, I wil go into the mountaine of myrrhe and to the mountaine of incense.
7 Thou art all faire, my loue, and there is no spot in thee.
1 O the fairest among women, whither is thy welbeloued gone? whither is thy welbeloued turned aside, that we may seeke him with thee?
19 Let her be as the louing hinde and pleasant roe: let her brests satisfie thee at all times, and delite in her loue continually.
6 Who is shee that commeth vp out of the wildernes like pillars of smoke perfumed with myrrhe and incense, and with all the spices of the marchant?
7 Shewe me, O thou, whome my soule loueth, where thou feedest, where thou liest at noone: for why should I be as she that turneth aside to the flockes of thy companions?
15 O fountaine of the gardens, O well of liuing waters, and the springs of Lebanon.
16 Arise, O North, and come O South, and blowe on my garden that the spices thereof may flow out: let my welbeloued come to his garden, and eate his pleasant fruite.
13 The figtree hath brought foorth her yong figges: and the vines with their small grapes haue cast a sauour: arise my loue, my faire one, and come away.
14 My doue, that art in the holes of ye rocke, in the secret places of the staires, shewe mee thy sight, let mee heare thy voyce: for thy voyce is sweete, and thy sight comely.
16 My welbeloued is mine, and I am his: hee feedeth among the lilies,
4 When I had past a litle from them, then I found him whom my soule loued: I tooke holde on him and left him not, till I had brought him vnto my mothers house into the chamber of her that conceiued me.
13 So she caught him & kissed him and with an impudent face said vnto him,
14 O my welbeloued, flee away, and be like vnto the roe, or to the yong harte vpon ye mountaines of spices.
1 Nowe will I sing to my beloued a song of my beloued to his vineyarde, My beloued had a vineyarde in a very fruitefull hill,
2 Thou art fayrer then the children of men: grace is powred in thy lips, because God hath blessed thee for euer.
3 For the lippes of a strange woman drop as an honie combe, and her mouth is more soft then oyle.
4 Thou art beautifull, my loue, as Tirzah, comely as Ierusale, terrible as an army with baners.