CXVIII LOVE'S GARDEN Song of Solomon iv. EHOLD, thou art fair, my love; behold thou art fair; Thou hast doves' eyes within thy locks: Thy hair is as a flock of goats, That appear from mount Gilead. Thy teeth are like a flock of sheep that are even shorn, Which came up from the washing; Whereof every one bear twins, And none is barren among them. Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet, And thy speech is comely: Thy temples are like a piece of pomegranate Within thy locks. Thy neck is like the tower of David builded for an armoury, Whereon there hang a thousand bucklers, All shields of mighty men. Thy two breasts are like two young roes that are twins, Which feed among the lilies. Until the day break, 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; There is no spot in thee. Come with me from Lebanon, my spouse, With me from Lebanon: Look from the top of Amana, From the top of Shenir 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! And the smell of thine ointments than all spices! 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 plants are an orchard of pomegranates, with pleasant fruits: Camphire, with spikenard, Spikenard and saffron ; Calamus and cinnamon, with all trees of frank incense; Myrrh and aloes, with all the chief spices: A fountain of gardens, A well of living waters, And streams from Lebanon. Awake, O north wind; and come, thou south: Blow upon my garden, that the spices thereof may flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden, And eat his pleasant fruits. CXIX A LOVER'S QUEST Song of Solomon v. AM come into 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: Eat, O friends; Drink, yea, drink abundantly, O beloved. I sleep, but my heart waketh: It is the voice of my beloved that knocketh, saying, Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled: For my head is filled with dew, And my locks with the drops of the night. I have put off my coat; how shall I put it on? I have washed my feet; how shall I defile them? My beloved put in his hand by the hole of the door, And my bowels were moved for him. I rose up to open to my beloved; And my hands dropped with myrrh, And my fingers with sweet smelling myrrh, Upon the handles of the lock. I opened to my beloved; But my beloved had withdrawn himself, and was gone: My soul failed when he spake : I sought him, but I could not find him; I called him, but he gave me no answer. The watchmen that went about the city found me, They smote me, they wounded me; The keepers of the walls took away my veil from me. I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find my beloved, That ye tell him, that I am sick of love. What is thy beloved more than another beloved, What is thy beloved more than another beloved, His locks are bushy, and black as a raven. His eyes are as the eyes of doves by the rivers of waters, Washed with milk, and fitly set. His cheeks are as a bed of spices, as sweet flowers: His countenance is as Lebanon, excellent as the cedars. His mouth is most sweet: yea, he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem. CXX THE FAIREST LOVE Song of Solomon vi. 1-7, 9-13. HITHER is thy beloved gone, My beloved is gone down into his garden, to the beds of spices, To feed in the gardens, and to gather lilies. I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine: He feedeth among the lilies. Thou art beautiful, O my love, as Tirzah, Comely as Jerusalem, Terrible as an army with banners. Turn away thine eyes from me, Thy teeth are as a flock of sheep And there is not one barren among them. Within thy locks. My dove, my undefiled is but one; She is the only one of her mother, She is the choice one of her that bare her. The daughters saw her, and blessed her; Yea, the queens and the concubines, and they praised her. Who is she that looketh forth as the morning, Fair as the moon, Clear as the sun, And terrible as an army with banners? |