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OEB by section SNG 5:1

SNG 5:1–8:14 ©

Conclusion

Conclusion

6"Whither hath gone thy beloved,

O fairest of women?

Whiter hath turned thy beloved,

That with thee we may seek him?"

2"My love is gone down to his garden,

The terrace of spices,

To pasture his flock in his garden,

To pasture his flock in his garden

And gather the lilies.

3My beloved is mine, I am his,

’Mong the lilies he pastures."

In Praise of the Bride

4Thou art fair, my beloved, as Tirzah,

Lovely as Jerusalem,

Dread as an army with banners.

5Away from me turn those eyes

That stir me so strangely,

That hair like a flock of goats

Streaming down from mount Gilead,

6Those teeth like a flock of ewes,

Just come up from the washing,

Ranged in a double row,

Not one of them lacking;

7Those temples like pieces of pomegranate

Seen through thy veil.

8Three score queens had Solomon,

Concubines fourscore,

And maids without number.

9But she, my dove, is but one,

She, my stainless, is one.

Alone and peerless is she

To the mother who bore her.

The daughters, at sight of her, praised her;

Concubines, queens, sang her praises.

10Who is this that looks forth like the dawn,

Fair as the moon,

Clear as the sun,

And dread as an army with banners?

11"I went down to the garden of nuts,

To see the green shoots in the valley,

To see if the vines were in bud,

Or the pomegranates yet were in blossom.

12Or ever I knew, on his chariot

The prince of my people had set me."

13Turn thee, turn, maid of Shulem,

Turn thee, turn, that we see thee.

But what would ye see in the Shulammite?

(We would see her dance) the war-dance.

In Praise of the Bride as she dances the Sword-Dance

7How gracefully thou dost step

In thy sandals, thou prince’s daughter!

The curves of thy thighs are like jewels,

wrought by the hands of an artist.

2Thy waist is a rounded bowl–

Be never the sweet wine wanting.

Thy belly a heap of wheat,

That is set about with lilies.

3Thy breasts like a pair of fawns

That are twins of a gazelle,

4Thy neck like the ivory tower.

Thine eyes are like Heshbon’s pools,

By the gate of the populous city,

Thy nose like the tower of Lebanon

That looketh toward Damascus,

5Thy head is like Carmel upon thee,

Thy flowing locks are as purple:

Thy tresses hold captive the king.

6How fair, my beloved, art thou!

How lovely in love’s delights!

7Thou art slender and tall as a palm,

And thy breasts are like its clusters.

8I vowed I would climb this palm,

And take hold of the branches thereof.

O let thy breasts be as clusters,

The smell of thy breath be as apples,

9Thy lips be as wine of the best,

That goeth down smoothly

And glides o’er the lips and the teeth.

The Bride’s Longing

10I am my darling’s;

He longeth for me.

11Come, then, my love,

Let us go the to the fields,

Let us lodge among the henna.

12And early we’ll hie to the vineyards,

To see if the vine be in bud,

If its blossoms have opened,

And pomegranates flower;

And there my caresses I’ll give thee.

13The love-apples give forth their scent;

At our door are all manner of fruits,

Precious fruits, both new and old,

That I stored up for thee, my beloved.

8O that thou wert my brother,

That nursed at the breasts of my mother!

If I found thee without, I would kiss thee,

Nor fear the contempt of another.

2To my mother’s house I would bring thee,

To the chamber of her that conceived me.

Spiced wine would I give thee to drink,

A draught of my pomegranate wine.

The Incomparable Power of Love

5Who is this that comes up from the wilderness,

Leaning upon her beloved?

"’Neath the apple-tree yonder I woke thee,

Just there, where a babe thou wast swaddled–

Yes, there – by the mother that bore thee."

6"Set me as seal on thy heart

Like the ring on thy hand.

For love is strong as death,

Its passion is fierce as the grave;

Its flashes are flashes of fire,

Its flames are like the lightning.

7No waters can quench it,

Nor floods overwhelm it.

If a man should give all in his house for it,

Utterly scorned would he be.

The Bride’s Proud Reply to her Brothers

8"A sister have we, but she’s little–

No breasts hath she yet.

What then shall we do with our sister,

The day she is spoken for?

9If she should prove a wall,

We will build her a turret of silver.

But if she should prove a door,

We will fence her with boards of cedar."

10"I was a wall,

My breasts were the turrets;

And he, as he looked at me,

Won me my happiness."

The Two Vineyards

11Solomon had a vineyard at Baal-hamon–

He let out the vineyard to keepers;

And each man brought in for the fruit thereof

One thousand shekels of silver.

12I, too, have a vineyard, mine own:

I leave thee the thousand, O Solomon;

Yea, and two hundred besides

For the men who kept watch on the fruit thereof,

Conclusion

13"O thou that hauntest the gardens,

My comrades are all attention:

Come, let us hear thy voice."

14"Hasten, beloved,

And flee like the roe

Or the playful gazelle

On the mountains of spices."

SNG 5:1–8:14 ©

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