Wisdom 7

1 His left hand is under my head, and his right hand shall embrace me. 2 I adjure you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and the harts of the field, that you stir not up, nor make the beloved to awake, till she please. 3 The voice of my beloved, behold he cometh leaping upon the mountains, skipping over the hills. 4 My beloved is like a roe, or a young hart. Behold he standeth behind our wall, looking through the windows, looking through the lattices. 5 Behold my beloved speaketh to me: Arise, make haste, my love, my dove, my beautiful one, and come. 6 For winter is now past, the rain is over and gone. 7 The flowers have appeared in our land, the time of pruning is come: the voice of the turtle is heard in our land: 8 The fig tree hath put forth her green figs: the vines in flower yield their sweet smell. Arise, my love, my beautiful one, and come: 9 My dove in the clefts of the rock, in the hollow places of the wall, shew me thy face, let thy voice sound in my ears: for thy voice is sweet, and thy face comely. 10 Catch us the little foxes that destroy the vines: for our vineyard hath flourished. 11 My beloved to me, and I to him who feedeth among the lilies, 12 Till the day break, and the shadows retire. Return: be like, my beloved, to a roe, or to a young hart upon the mountains of Bether. 14 In my bed by night I sought him whom my soul loveth: I sought him, and found him not. 15 I will rise, and will go about the city: in the streets and the broad ways I will seek him whom my soul loveth: I sought him, and I found him not. 16 The watchmen who keep the city, found me: Have you seen him, whom my soul loveth? 17 When I had a little passed by them, I found him whom my soul loveth: I held him: and I will not let him go, till I bring him into my mother’s house, and into the chamber of her that bore me. 18 I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes and the harts of the fields, that you stir not up, nor awake my beloved, till she please. 19 Who is she that goeth up by the desert, as a pillar of smoke of aromatical spices, of myrrh, and frankincense, and of all the powders of the perfumer? 20 Behold threescore valiant ones of the most valiant of Israel, surrounded the bed of Solomon? 21 All holding swords, and most expert in war: every man’s sword upon his thigh, because of fears in the night. 22 King Solomon hath made him a litter of the wood of Libanus: 23 The pillars thereof he made of silver, the seat of gold, the going up of purple: the midst he covered with charity for the daughters of Jerusalem. 24 Go forth, ye daughters of Sion, and see king Solomon in the diadem, wherewith his mother crowned him in the day of his espousal, in the day of the joy of his heart. 26 How beautiful art thou, my love, how beautiful art thou! thy eyes are doves’ eyes, besides what is hid within. Thy hair is as flocks of goats, which come up from mount Galaad. 27 Thy teeth as flocks of sheep, that are shorn, which come up from the washing, all with twins, and there is none barren among them. 28 Thy lips are as a scarlet lace: and thy speech sweet. Thy cheeks are as a piece of a pomegranate, besides that which lieth hid within. 29 Thy neck, is as the tower of David, which is built with bulwarks: a thousand bucklers hang upon it, all the armour of valiant men. 30 Thy two breasts like two young roes that are twins, which feed among the lilies.