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(Arranged by Sir James George Frazer, 1895)
I AM come into my garden, my sister, my spouse; | |
| I have gathered my myrrh with my spice; | |
| I have eaten my honeycomb with my honey; | |
| I have drunk my wine with my milk: | |
| Eat, O friends; | 5 |
| Drink, yea, drink abundantly, O beloved. | |
| I sleep, but my heart waketh: | |
| It is the voice of my beloved that knocketh, saying, | |
| Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled: | |
| For my head is filled with dew, | 10 |
| And my locks with the drops of the night. | |
| I have put off my coat; how shall I put it on? | |
| I have washed my feet; how shall I defile them? | |
| My beloved put in his hand by the hole of the door | |
| And my bowels were moved for him. | 15 |
| I rose up to open to my beloved; | |
| And my hands dropped with myrrh, | |
| And my fingers with sweet-smelling myrrh, | |
| Upon the handles of the lock. | |
| I opened to my beloved; | 20 |
| But my beloved had withdrawn himself, and was gone: | |
| My soul failed when he spake: | |
| I sought him but I could not find him; | |
| I called him, but he gave me no answer. | |
| The watchmen that went about the city found me, | 25 |
| They smote me, they wounded me; | |
| The keepers of the walls took away my veil from me. | |
| I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find my beloved, | |
| That ye tell him, that I am sick of love. | |
| What is thy beloved more than another beloved, | 30 |
| O thou fairest among women? | |
| What is thy beloved more than another beloved, | |
| That thou dost so charge us? | |
| My beloved is white and ruddy, | |
| The chiefest among ten thousand. | 35 |
| His head is as the most fine gold, | |
| His locks are bushy, and black as a raven. | |
| His eyes are as the eyes of doves by the rivers of waters, | |
| Washed with milk, and fitly set. | |
| His cheeks are as a bed of spices, as sweet flowers: | 40 |
| His lips like lilies dropping sweet smelling myrrh. | |
| His hands are as gold rings set with the beryl: | |
| His belly is as bright ivory overlaid with sapphires. | |
| His legs are as pillars of marble, set upon sockets of fine gold: | |
| His countenance is as Lebanon, excellent as the cedars. | 45 |
| His mouth is most sweet: yea, he is altogether lovely. | |
| This is my beloved, and this is my friend, | |
| O daughters of Jerusalem. | |
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