Feb 11, 2024
Song of Solomon 4:1-5:1

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The Bridegroom Praises the Bride
The Beloved
1 Behold, you are fair, my love!
​​Behold, you are fair!
​​You have dove’s eyes behind your veil.
​​Your hair is like a flock of goats,
​​Going down from Mount Gilead.
2 ​​Your teeth are like a flock of shorn sheep
​​Which have come up from the washing,
​​Every one of which bears twins,
​​And none is barren among them.
3 ​​Your lips are like a strand of scarlet,
​​And your mouth is lovely.
​​Your temples behind your veil
​​Are like a piece of pomegranate.
4 ​​Your neck is like the tower of David,
​​Built for an armory,
​​On which hang a thousand bucklers,
​​All shields of mighty men.
5 ​​Your two breasts are like two fawns,
​​Twins of a gazelle,
​​Which feed among the lilies.
6 ​​Until the day breaks
​​And the shadows flee away,
​​I will go my way to the mountain of myrrh
​​And to the hill of frankincense.
7 ​​You are all fair, my love,
​​And there is no spot in you.
8 ​​Come with me from Lebanon, my spouse,
​​With me from Lebanon.
​​Look from the top of Amana,
​​From the top of Senir and Hermon,
​​From the lions’ dens,
​​From the mountains of the leopards.
9 ​​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.
10 ​​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!
11 ​​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.
12 ​​A garden enclosed
​​Is my sister, my spouse,
​​A spring shut up,
​​A fountain sealed.
13 ​​Your plants are an orchard of pomegranates
​​With pleasant fruits,
​​Fragrant henna with spikenard,
14 ​​Spikenard and saffron,
​​Calamus and cinnamon,
​​With all trees of frankincense,
​​Myrrh and aloes,
​​With all the chief spices—
15 ​​A fountain of gardens,
​​A well of living waters,
​​And streams from Lebanon.
The Shulamite
16 ​​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 Bride Praises the Bridegroom

The Beloved

1 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!