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Song of Solomon 4:9 - End of 6

You have ravished my heart, My sister, my spouse; You have ravished my heart With one look of your eyes, With one link of your necklace. How fair is your love, My sister, my spouse! How much better than wine is your love, And the scent of your perfumes Than all spices! Your lips, O my spouse, Drip as the honeycomb; Honey and milk are under your tongue; And the fragrance of your garments Is like the fragrance of Lebanon. A garden enclosed Is my sister, my spouse, A spring shut up, A fountain sealed. Your plants are an orchard of pomegranates With pleasant fruits, Fragrant henna with spikenard, Spikenard and saffron, Calamus and cinnamon, With all trees of frankincense, Myrrh and aloes, With all the chief spices - A fountain of gardens, A well of living waters, And streams from Lebanon. 

THE SHULAMITE

Awake, O north wind, And come, O south! Blow upon my garden, That its spices may flow out. Let my beloved come to his garden And eat its pleasant fruits. 

THE BELOVED

I have come to 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.

(TO HIS FRIENDS)

Eat, O friends! Drink, yes, drink deeply, O beloved ones!

THE SHULAMITE

I sleep, but my heart is awake; It is the voice of my beloved! He knocks, saying, "Open for me, my sister, my love, My dove, my perfect one; For my head is covered with dew, My locks with the drops of the night." I have taken off my robe; How can I put it on again? I have washed my feet; How can I defile them? My beloved put his hand By the latch of the door, And my heart yearned for him. I arose to open for my beloved, And my hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with liquid myrrh, On the handles of the lock. I opened for my beloved, But my beloved had turned away and was gone. My heart leaped up when he spoke. I sought him, but I could not find him; I called him, but he gave me no answer. The watchmen who went about the city found me. They struck me, they wounded me; The keepers of the walls Took my veil away from me. I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, If you find my beloved, That you tell him I am lovesick!

THE DAUGHTERS OF JERUSALEM

What is your beloved More than another beloved, O fairest among women? What is your beloved More than another beloved, That you so charge us?

THE SHULAMITE

My beloved is white and ruddy, Chief among ten thousand. His head is like the finest gold; His locks are wavy, And black as a raven. His eyes are like doves By the rivers of waters, Washed with milk, And fitly set. His cheeks are like a bed of spices, Banks of scented herbs. His lips are lilies, Dripping liquid myrrh. His hands are rods of gold Set with beryl. His body is carved ivory Inlaid with sapphires. His legs are pillars of marble Set on bases of fine gold. His countenance is like Lebanon, Excellent as the cedars. his mouth is most sweet, Yes, he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, And this is my friend, o daughters of Jerusalem. 

THE DAUGHTERS OF JERUSALEM

Where has your beloved gone, O fairest among women? Where has your beloved turned aside, That we may seek him with you?

THE SHULAMITE

My beloved has gone to his garden, To the beds of spices, To feed his flock in the gardens, And to gather lilies. I am my beloved's, And my beloved is mine. He feeds his flock among the lilies.

THE BELOVED

O my love, you are as beautiful as Tirzah, Lovely as Jerusalem, Awesome as an army with banners! Turn your eyes away from me, For they have overcome me. Your hair is like a flock of goats Going down from Gilead. Your teeth are like a flock of sheep Which have come up from the washing; Every one bears twins, And none is barren among them. Like a pierce of pomegranate Are your temples behind your veil. There are sixty queens And eighty concubines, And virgins without number. My dove, my perfect one, Is the only one, The only one of her mother, The favorite of the one who bore her. The daughters saw her And called her blessed, The queens and the concubines, And they praised her. Who is she who looks forth as the morning, Fair as the moon, Clear as the sun, Awesome as an army with banners?

THE SHULAMITE

I went down to the garden of nuts To see the verdure of the valley, To see whether the vine had budded And the pomegranates had bloomed. Before I was even aware, My soul had made me As the chariots of my noble people. 

THE BELOVED AND HIS FRIENDS

Return, return, O Shulamite; Return, return, that we may look upon you!

THE SHULAMITE

What would you see in the Shulamite - As it were, the dance of the two camps? 




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