SONG OF SONGS.
Chapter 1.
The Song of songs, which is Solomon's. 
Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for your breasts are better than wine. 
And the smell of your ointments is better than all spices: your name is ointment poured forth; therefore do the young maidens love you. 
They have drawn you: we will run after you, for the smell of your ointments: the king has brought me into closet: let us rejoice and be glad in you; we will love your breasts more than wine: righteousness loves you. 
I am black, but beautiful, you⌃ daughters of Jerusalem, as the tents of Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon. 
Look not upon me, because I am dark, because the sun has looked unfavourably upon me: my mother's sons strove with me; they made me keeper in the vineyards; I have not kept my own vineyard. 
Tell me, you whom my soul loves, where you tend your flock, where you cause them to rest at noon, lest I become as one that is veiled by the flocks of your companions. 
If you know not yourself, you fair one among women, go you forth by the footsteps of the flocks, and feed your kids by the shepherd's tents. 
I have likened you, my companion, to my horses in the chariots of Pharao. 
How are your cheeks beautiful as those of a dove, your neck as chains! 
We will make you figures of gold with studs of silver. 
So long as the king was at table, my spikenard gave forth its smell. 
My kinsman is to me a bundle of myrrh; he shall lie between my breasts. 
My kinsman is to me a cluster of camphor in the vineyards of Engaddi. 
Behold, you are fair, my companion; behold, you are fair; your eyes are doves. 
Behold, you are fair, my kinsman, yes, beautiful, overshadowing our bed. 
The beams of our house are cedars, our ceilings are of cypress. 
