The Song of Songs

I am a rose of Sharon, A lily of the valleys.

As a lily among thorns, So is my love among the daughters.

As the apple-tree among the trees of the wood, So is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, And his fruit was sweet to my taste.

He brought me to the banqueting-house, And his banner over me was love.

Stay ye me with raisins, refresh me with apples; For I am sick from love.

His left hand [is] under my head, And his right hand doth embrace me.

I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, By the roes, or by the hinds of the field, That ye stir not up, nor awake [my] love, Until he please.

The voice of my beloved! behold, he cometh, Leaping upon the mountains, Skipping upon the hills.

My beloved is like a roe or a young hart: Behold, he standeth behind our wall; He looketh in at the windows; He glanceth through the lattice.

My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.

For, lo, the winter is past; The rain is over and gone;

The flowers appear on the earth; The time of the singing [of birds] is come, And the voice of the turtle-dove is heard in our land;

The fig-tree ripeneth her green figs, And the vines are in blossom; They give forth their fragrance. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.

O my dove, that art in the clefts of the rock, In the covert of the steep place, Let me see thy countenance, Let me hear thy voice; For sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely.

My beloved is mine, and I am his: He feedeth [his flock] among the lilies.

Until the day be cool, and the shadows flee away, Turn, my beloved, and be thou like a roe or a young hart Upon the mountains of Bether.