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Ketuvim (Hagiographer) » Songs of Songs (Shir HaShirim)
Chapter 4
Display in HebrewPDF Download4,1
Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; thine eyes are as doves behind thy veil; thy hair is as a flock of goats, that trail down from mount Gilead.
4,2
Thy teeth are like a flock of ewes all shaped alike, which are come up from the washing; whereof all are paired, and none faileth among them.
4,3
Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet, and thy mouth is comely; thy temples are like a pomegranate split open behind thy veil.
4,4
Thy neck is like the tower of David builded with turrets, whereon there hang a thousand shields, all the armour of the mighty men.
4,5
Thy two breasts are like two fawns that are twins of a gazelle, which feed among the lilies.
4,6
Until the day breathe, and the shadows flee away, I will get me to the mountain of myrrh, and to the hill of frankincense.
4,7
Thou art all fair, my love; and there is no spot in thee.
4,8
Come with me from Lebanon, my bride, 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.
4,9
Thou hast ravished my heart, my sister, my bride; thou hast ravished my heart with one of thine eyes, with one bead of thy necklace.
4,10
How fair is thy love, my sister, my bride! how much better is thy love than wine! and the smell of thine ointments than all manner of spices!
4,11
Thy lips, O my bride, drop honey--honey and milk are under thy tongue; and the smell of thy garments is like the smell of Lebanon.
4,12
A garden shut up is my sister, my bride; a spring shut up, a fountain sealed.
4,13
Thy shoots are a park of pomegranates, with precious fruits; henna with spikenard plants,
4,14
Spikenard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon, with all trees of frankincense; myrrh and aloes, with all the chief spices.
4,15
Thou art a fountain of gardens, a well of living waters, and flowing streams from Lebanon.
4,16
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 precious fruits.
Ketuvim (Hagiographer)
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