Song of Solomon 1:7-17 ▼

7 Tell me, O thou whom my soul loveth, Where thou feedest, where thou makest thy flock to rest at noon; For why should I be as one that veileth herself Beside the flocks of thy companions?

8 If thou know not, O thou fairest among women, Go thy way forth by the footsteps of the flock And feed thy kids, beside the shepherds' tents.

9 I have compared thee, O my love, To a steed in Pharaoh's chariots.

10 Thy cheeks are comely with circlets, Thy neck with beads.

11 We will make thee circlets of gold With studs of silver.

12 While the king sat at his table, My spikenard sent forth its fragrance.

13 My beloved is unto me as a bag of myrrh, That lieth betwixt my breasts.

14 My beloved is unto me as a cluster of henna In the vineyards of En-gedi.

15 Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; Thine eyes are as doves.

16 Behold, thou art fair, my beloved, yea, pleasant; Also our couch is leafy.

17 The beams of our houses are cedars, And our panels are cypresses.