Song of Songs 1:6
Regard ye me not because I am blacke: for the sunne hath looked vpon mee. The sonnes of my mother were angry against mee: they made me the keeper of ye vines: but I kept not mine owne vine.
Regard ye me not because I am blacke: for the sunne hath looked vpon mee. The sonnes of my mother were angry against mee: they made me the keeper of ye vines: but I kept not mine owne vine.
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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.
5 I am blacke, O daughters of Ierusalem, but comely, as the tentes of Kedar, and as the curtaines of Salomon.
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?
8 If thou knowe not, O thou the fairest among women, get thee foorth by the steps of the flocke, and feede thy kiddes by the tents of the shepheards.
9 I haue compared thee, O my loue, to the troupe of horses in the charets of Pharaoh.
30 My skinne is blacke vpon me, & my bones are burnt with heate.
31 Therefore mine harpe is turned to mourning, and mine organs into the voyce of them that weepe.
7 Her Nazarites were purer then the snowe, & whiter then ye milke: they were more ruddie in bodie, then the redde precious stones; they were like polished saphir.
8 Nowe their visage is blacker then a cole: they can not knowe them in the streetes: their skinne cleaueth to their bones: it is withered like a stocke.
5 Turne away thine eyes from me: for they ouercome mee: thine heare is like a flocke of goates, which looke downe from Gilead.
10 Our skinne was blacke like as an ouen because of the terrible famine.
6 I opened to my welbeloued: but my welbeloued was gone, and past: mine heart was gone when hee did speake: I sought him, but I coulde not finde him: I called him, but hee answered mee not.
7 The watchmen that went about the citie, founde me: they smote me and wounded me: the watchmen of the walles tooke away my vaile from me.
8 I charge you, O daughters of Ierusalem, if you finde my welbeloued, that you tell him that I am sicke of loue.
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.
11 His head is as fine golde, his lockes curled, and blacke as a rauen.
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,
21 I am sore vexed for the hurt of ye daughter of my people: I am heauie, & astonishment hath taken me.
10 Who is shee that looketh foorth as the morning, fayre as the moone, pure as the sunne, terrible as an armie with banners!
11 I went downe to the garden of nuttes, to see the fruites of the valley, to see if the vine budded, and if the pomegranates flourished.
12 I knewe nothing, my soule set me as the charets of my noble people.
16 Which are blackish with yee, and wherein the snowe is hid.
1 O the fairest among women, whither is thy welbeloued gone? whither is thy welbeloued turned aside, that we may seeke him with thee?
6 Vntill the day breake, and the shadowes flie away, I wil go into the mountaine of myrrhe and to the mountaine of incense.
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.
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.
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.
16 My face is withered with weeping, and the shadow of death is vpon mine eyes,
10 I am my welbeloueds, and his desire is toward mee.
7 He maketh my vine waste, & pilleth off the barke of my figge tree: he maketh it bare, and casteth it downe: ye branches therof are made white.
3 I haue put off my coate, howe shall I put it on? I haue washed my feete, howe shall I defile them?
3 The watchmen that went about the citie, found mee: to whome I said, Haue you seene him, whome my soule loueth?
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.
12 But my vineyarde which is mine, is before me: to thee, O Salomon appertaineth a thousand pieces of siluer, and two hundreth to them that keepe the fruite thereof.
13 O thou that dwellest in the gardens, the companions hearken vnto thy voyce: cause me to heare it.
7 Mine eye therefore is dimme for griefe, and all my strength is like a shadowe.
4 What coulde I haue done any more to my vineyard that I haue not done vnto it? why haue I looked that it should bring foorth grapes, and it bringeth foorth wilde grapes?
1 Wo is me, for I am as the sommer gatherings, and as the grapes of the vintage: there is no cluster to eate: my soule desired the first ripe fruites.
12 Haue ye no regarde, all yee that passe by this way? behold, and see, if there be any sorowe like vnto my sorowe, which is done vnto mee, wherewith the Lord hath afflicted me in the day of his fierce wrath.
7 Mine eye is dimmed for despight, and sunke in because of all mine enemies.
2 Wherefore is thine apparel red, and thy garments like him that treadeth in ye wine presse?
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.
8 Mine heritage is vnto mee, as a lion in the forest: it crieth out against mee, therefore haue I hated it.
10 I am a wall, and my breasts are as towres: then was I in his eyes as one that findeth peace.
8 I am become a stranger vnto my brethren, euen an aliant vnto my mothers sonnes.
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.
12 Surely mine enemie did not defame mee: for I could haue borne it: neither did mine aduersarie exalt himselfe against mee: for I would haue hid me from him.
5 (Who is this that commeth vp out of the wildernesse, leaning vpon her welbeloued?) I raysed thee vp vnder an apple tree: there thy mother conceiued thee: there she coceiued that bare thee.