Song of Solomon 4

Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; Thine eyes are doves behind thy veil; Thy hair is as a flock of goats, On the slopes of mount Gilead.

Thy teeth are like a flock of shorn sheep, Which go up from the washing; Which have all borne twins, And none is barren among them.

Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet, And thy speech is comely; As a piece of a pomegranate are thy temples Behind thy veil.

Thy neck is like the tower of David, Built for an armoury: A thousand bucklers hang thereon, All shields of mighty men.

Thy two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle, Which feed among the lilies.

Until the day dawn, and the shadows flee away, I will get me to the mountain of myrrh, And to the hill of frankincense.

Thou art all fair, my love; And there is no spot in thee.

[Come] with me, from Lebanon, [my] spouse, With me from Lebanon,—Come, look from the top of Amanah, From the top of Senir and Hermon, From the lions' dens, From the mountains of the leopards.

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.

How fair is thy love, my sister, [my] spouse! How much better is thy love than wine! And the fragrance of thine ointments than all spices!

Thy lips, [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.

A garden enclosed is my sister, [my] spouse; A spring shut up, a fountain sealed.

Thy shoots are a paradise of pomegranates, with precious fruits; Henna with spikenard plants;

Spikenard and saffron; Calamus and cinnamon, with all trees of frankincense; Myrrh and aloes, with all the chief spices:

A fountain in the gardens, A well of living waters, Which stream from Lebanon.

Awake, north wind, and come, [thou] south; Blow upon my garden, [that] the spices thereof may flow forth. Let my beloved come into his garden, And eat its precious fruits.