1:
          Solomon’s Song of Songs.
        
      
      
      
        
           2:
          Let him kiss me with the kiss of his mouth: for thy breasts are better than wine,
        
      
      
      
        
           3:
          Smelling sweet of the best ointments. Thy name is as oil poured out: therefore young maidens have loved thee.
        
      
      
      
        
           4:
          Draw me: we will run after thee to the odour of thy ointments. The king hath brought me into his storerooms: we will be glad and rejoice in thee, remembering thy breasts more than wine: the righteous love thee.
        
      
      
      
        
           5:
          I am black but beautiful, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, as the tents of Cedar, as the curtains of Solomon.
        
      
      
      
        
           6:
          Do not consider me that I am brown, because the sun hath altered my colour: the sons of my mother have fought against me, they have made me the keeper in the vineyards: my vineyard I have not kept.
        
      
      
      
        
           7:
          Shew me, O thou whom my soul loveth, where thou feedest, where thou liest in the midday, lest I begin to wander after the flocks of thy companions.
        
      
      
      
        
           8:
          If thou know not thyself, O fairest among women, go forth, and follow after the steps of the flocks, and feed thy kids beside the tents of the shepherds.
        
      
      
      
        
           9:
          To my company of horsemen, in Pharao's chariots, have I likened thee, O my love.
        
      
      
      
        
           10:
          Thy cheeks are beautiful as the turtledove's, thy neck as jewels.
        
      
      
      
        
           11:
          We will make thee chains of gold, inlaid with silver.
        
      
      
      
        
           12:
          While the king was at his repose, my spikenard sent forth the odour thereof.
        
      
      
      
        
           13:
          A bundle of myrrh is my beloved to me, he shall abide between my breasts.
        
      
      
      
        
           14:
          A cluster of cypress my love is to me, in the vineyards of Engaddi.
        
      
      
      
        
           15:
          Behold thou art fair, O my love, behold thou art fair, thy eyes are as those of doves.
        
      
      
      
        
           16:
          Behold thou art fair, my beloved, and comely. Our bed is flourishing.
        
      
      
      
        
           17:
          The beams of our houses are of cedar, our rafters of cypress trees.