Song of Songs 4:9
Thou hast ravished my heart, my sister, my spouse; thou hast ravished my heart with one of thine eyes, with one chain of thy neck.
Thou hast ravished my heart, my sister, my spouse; thou hast ravished my heart with one of thine eyes, with one chain of thy neck.
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10How fair is thy love, my sister, my spouse! how much better is thy love than wine! and the smell of thine ointments than all spices!
11Thy lips, O my spouse, drop as the honeycomb: honey and milk are under thy tongue; and the smell of thy garments is like the smell of Lebanon.
12A garden inclosed is my sister, my spouse; a spring shut up, a fountain sealed.
13Thy plants are an orchard of pomegranates, with pleasant fruits; camphire, with spikenard,
3Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet, and thy speech is comely: thy temples are like a piece of a pomegranate within thy locks.
4Thy neck is like the tower of David builded for an armoury, whereon there hang a thousand bucklers, all shields of mighty men.
5Thy two breasts are like two young roes that are twins, which feed among the lilies.
6Until the day break, and the shadows flee away, I will get me to the mountain of myrrh, and to the hill of frankincense.
7Thou art all fair, my love; there is no spot in thee.
8Come with me from Lebanon, my spouse, with me from Lebanon: look from the top of Amana, from the top of Shenir and Hermon, from the lions' dens, from the mountains of the leopards.
1I am come into my garden, my sister, my spouse: I have gathered my myrrh with my spice; I have eaten my honeycomb with my honey; I have drunk my wine with my milk: eat, O friends; drink, yea, drink abundantly, O beloved.
2I sleep, but my heart waketh: it is the voice of my beloved that knocketh, saying, Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled: for my head is filled with dew, and my locks with the drops of the night.
1Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; thou hast doves' eyes within thy locks: thy hair is as a flock of goats, that appear from mount Gilead.
7Tell me, O thou whom my soul loveth, where thou feedest, where thou makest thy flock to rest at noon: for why should I be as one that turneth aside by the flocks of thy companions?
8If thou know not, O thou fairest among women, go thy way forth by the footsteps of the flock, and feed thy kids beside the shepherds' tents.
9I have compared thee, O my love, to a company of horses in Pharaoh's chariots.
10Thy cheeks are comely with rows of jewels, thy neck with chains of gold.
13A bundle of myrrh is my wellbeloved unto me; he shall lie all night betwixt my breasts.
14My beloved is unto me as a cluster of camphire in the vineyards of En-gedi.
15Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; thou hast doves' eyes.
16Behold, thou art fair, my beloved, yea, pleasant: also our bed is green.
2Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy love is better than wine.
3Because of the savour of thy good ointments thy name is as ointment poured forth, therefore do the virgins love thee.
4Draw me, we will run after thee: the king hath brought me into his chambers: we will be glad and rejoice in thee, we will remember thy love more than wine: the upright love thee.
19Let her be as the loving hind and pleasant roe; let her breasts satisfy thee at all times; and be thou ravished always with her love.
20And why wilt thou, my son, be ravished with a strange woman, and embrace the bosom of a stranger?
6How fair and how pleasant art thou, O love, for delights!
9My beloved is like a roe or a young hart: behold, he standeth behind our wall, he looketh forth at the windows, shewing himself through the lattice.
10My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.
4Thou art beautiful, O my love, as Tirzah, comely as Jerusalem, terrible as an army with banners.
5Turn away thine eyes from me, for they have overcome me: thy hair is as a flock of goats that appear from Gilead.
8I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find my beloved, that ye tell him, that I am sick of love.
9What is thy beloved more than another beloved, O thou fairest among women? what is thy beloved more than another beloved, that thou dost so charge us?
9And the roof of thy mouth like the best wine for my beloved, that goeth down sweetly, causing the lips of those that are asleep to speak.
10I am my beloved's, and his desire is toward me.
1Whither is thy beloved gone, O thou fairest among women? whither is thy beloved turned aside? that we may seek him with thee.
4It was but a little that I passed from them, but I found him whom my soul loveth: I held him, and would not let him go, until I had brought him into my mother's house, and into the chamber of her that conceived me.
5I charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and by the hinds of the field, that ye stir not up, nor awake my love, till he please.
14Make haste, my beloved, and be thou like to a roe or to a young hart upon the mountains of spices.
4Thy neck is as a tower of ivory; thine eyes like the fishpools in Heshbon, by the gate of Bath-rabbim: thy nose is as the tower of Lebanon which looketh toward Damascus.
15A fountain of gardens, a well of living waters, and streams from Lebanon.
16Awake, O north wind; and come, thou south; blow upon my garden, that the spices thereof may flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden, and eat his pleasant fruits.
16His mouth is most sweet: yea, he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.
9My dove, my undefiled is but one; she is the only one of her mother, she is the choice one of her that bare her. The daughters saw her, and blessed her; yea, the queens and the concubines, and they praised her.
14O my dove, that art in the clefts of the rock, in the secret places of the stairs, let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy voice; for sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely.
4He brought me to the banqueting house, and his banner over me was love.
3His left hand should be under my head, and his right hand should embrace me.
4I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, that ye stir not up, nor awake my love, until he please.
1O that thou wert as my brother, that sucked the breasts of my mother! when I should find thee without, I would kiss thee; yea, I should not be despised.
7I charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and by the hinds of the field, that ye stir not up, nor awake my love, till he please.