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5.16
THE SONG OF SONGS

This is my beloved, and this is my friend,
O daughters of Jerusalem.'
 
6 'Whither is thy beloved gone,
O thou fairest among women?
Whither hath thy beloved turned him,
That we may seek him with thee?'
2'My beloved is gone down into his garden,
To the beds of spices,
To feed in the gardens,
And to gather lilies.
3I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine,
That feedeth among the lilies.'
 
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 trail down from Gilead.
6Thy teeth are like a flock of ewes,
Which are come up from the washing;
Whereof all are paired,
And none faileth among them.
7Thy temples are like a pomegranate split open
Behind thy veil.
8There are threescore queens,
And fourscore concubines,
And maidens without number.
9My dove, my undefiled, is but one;
She is the only one of her mother;
She is the choice one of her that bore her.
The daughters saw her, and called her happy;
Yea, the queens and the concubines, and they praised her.
10Who is she that looketh forth as the dawn,
Fair as the moon,
Clear as the sun,
Terrible as an army with banners?
11I went down into the garden of nuts,
To look at the green plants of the valley,
To see whether the vine budded,
And the pomegranates were in flower.
12Before I was aware, my soul set me
Upon the chariots of my princely people.
 
7 Return, return, O Shulammite;
Return, return, that we may look upon thee.
 
What will ye see in the Shulammite?
As it were a dance of two companies.
 
2How beautiful are thy steps in sandals,
O prince's daughter!
The roundings of thy thighs are like the links of a chain,
The work of the hands of a skilled workman.
3Thy navel is like a round goblet,
Wherein no mingled wine is wanting;
Thy belly is like a heap of wheat
Set about with lilies.
4Thy two breasts are like two fawns
That are twins of a gazelle.
5Thy neck is as a tower of ivory;
Thine eyes as the pools in Heshbon,
By the gate of Bath-rabbim;
Thy nose is like the tower of Lebanon
Which looketh toward Damascus.
6Thy head upon thee is like Carmel,
And the hair of thy head like purple;
The king is held captive in the tresses thereof.

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