Song of Songs 1:4
Draw me: after thee we run, The king hath brought me into his inner chambers, We do joy and rejoice in thee, We mention thy loves more than wine, Uprightly they have loved thee!
Draw me: after thee we run, The king hath brought me into his inner chambers, We do joy and rejoice in thee, We mention thy loves more than wine, Uprightly they have loved thee!
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2 Let him kiss me with kisses of his mouth, For better `are' thy loves than wine.
3 For fragrance `are' thy perfumes good. Perfume emptied out -- thy name, Therefore have virgins loved thee!
6 Till the day doth break forth, And the shadows have fled away, I will get me unto the mountain of myrrh, And unto the hill of frankincense.
7 Thou `art' all fair, my friend, And a blemish there is not in thee. Come from Lebanon, O spouse,
8 Come from Lebanon, come thou in. Look from the top of Amana, From the top of Shenir and Hermon, From the habitations of lions, From the mountains of leopards.
9 Thou hast emboldened me, my sister-spouse, Emboldened me with one of thine eyes, With one chain of thy neck.
10 How wonderful have been thy loves, my sister-spouse, How much better have been thy loves than wine, And the fragrance of thy perfumes than all spices.
11 Thy lips drop honey, O spouse, Honey and milk `are' under thy tongue, And the fragrance of thy garments `Is' as the fragrance of Lebanon.
5 Dark `am' I, and comely, daughters of Jerusalem, As tents of Kedar, as curtains of Solomon.
3 As a citron among trees of the forest, So `is' my beloved among the sons, In his shade I delighted, and sat down, And his fruit `is' sweet to my palate.
4 He hath brought me in unto a house of wine, And his banner over me `is' love,
5 Sustain me with grape-cakes, Support me with citrons, for I `am' sick with love.
6 His left hand `is' under my head, And his right doth embrace me.
7 I have adjured you, daughters of Jerusalem, By the roes or by the hinds of the field, Stir not up nor wake the love till she please!
5 Thy head upon thee as Carmel, And the locks of thy head as purple, The king is bound with the flowings!
6 How fair and how pleasant hast thou been, O love, in delights.
1 Whither hath thy beloved gone, O fair among women? Whither hath thy beloved turned, And we seek him with thee?
7 Declare to me, thou whom my soul hath loved, Where thou delightest, Where thou liest down at noon, For why am I as one veiled, By the ranks of thy companions?
10 My beloved hath answered and said to me, `Rise up, my friend, my fair one, and come away,
1 I have come in to my garden, my sister-spouse, I have plucked my myrrh with my spice, I have eaten my comb with my honey, I have drunk my wine with my milk. Eat, O friends, drink, Yea, drink abundantly, O beloved ones!
2 I am sleeping, but my heart waketh: The sound of my beloved knocking! `Open to me, my sister, my friend, My dove, my perfect one, For my head is filled `with' dew, My locks `with' drops of the night.'
13 A bundle of myrrh `is' my beloved to me, Between my breasts it lodgeth.
14 A cluster of cypress `is' my beloved to me, In the vineyards of En-Gedi!
15 Lo, thou `art' fair, my friend, Lo, thou `art' fair, thine eyes `are' doves!
9 To my joyous one in chariots of Pharaoh, I have compared thee, my friend,
9 And thy palate as the good wine --' Flowing to my beloved in uprightness, Strengthening the lips of the aged!
10 I `am' my beloved's, and on me `is' his desire.
11 Come, my beloved, we go forth to the field,
12 We lodge in the villages, we go early to the vineyards, We see if the vine hath flourished, The sweet smelling-flower hath opened. The pomegranates have blossomed, There do I give to thee my loves;
8 I have adjured you, daughters of Jerusalem, If ye find my beloved -- What do ye tell him? that I `am' sick with love!
9 What `is' thy beloved above `any' beloved, O fair among women? What `is' thy beloved above `any' beloved, That thus thou hast adjured us?
3 The watchmen have found me, (Who are going round about the city), `Him whom my soul have loved saw ye?'
4 But a little I passed on from them, Till I found him whom my soul hath loved! I seized him, and let him not go, Till I brought him in unto the house of my mother -- And the chamber of her that conceived me.
5 I have adjured you, daughters of Jerusalem, By the roes or by the hinds of the field, Stir not up nor wake the love till she please!
6 Who `is' this coming up from the wilderness, Like palm-trees of smoke, Perfumed `with' myrrh and frankincense, From every powder of the merchant?
2 I lead thee, I bring thee in unto my mother's house, She doth teach me, I cause thee to drink of the perfumed wine, Of the juice of my pomegranate,
3 His left hand `is' under my head, And his right doth embrace me.
4 I have adjured you, daughters of Jerusalem, How ye stir up, And how ye wake the love till she please!
5 Who `is' this coming from the wilderness, Hasting herself for her beloved? Under the citron-tree I have waked thee, There did thy mother pledge thee, There she gave a pledge `that' bare thee.
18 Come, we are filled `with' loves till the morning, We delight ourselves in loves.
16 His mouth is sweetness -- and all of him desirable, This `is' my beloved, and this my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem!
13 The companions are attending to thy voice, Cause me to hear. Flee, my beloved, and be like to a roe,
14 Or to a young one of the harts on mountains of spices!
4 Fair `art' thou, my friend, as Tirzah, Comely as Jerusalem, Awe-inspiring as bannered hosts.
15 A fount of gardens, a well of living waters, And flowings from Lebanon!
16 Awake, O north wind, and come, O south, Cause my garden to breathe forth, its spices let flow, Let my beloved come to his garden, And eat its pleasant fruits!
1 Lo, thou `art' fair, my friend, lo, thou `art' fair, Thine eyes `are' doves behind thy veil, Thy hair as a row of the goats That have shone from mount Gilead,
13 The fig-tree hath ripened her green figs, And the sweet-smelling vines have given forth fragrance, Rise, come, my friend, my fair one, yea, come away.
14 My dove, in clefts of the rock, In a secret place of the ascent, Cause me to see thine appearance, Cause me to hear thy voice, For thy voice `is' sweet, and thy appearance comely.
19 A hind of loves, and a roe of grace! Let her loves satisfy thee at all times, In her love magnify thyself continually.