Solomon and His Bride Delight in Each Other

Song of Solomon 6

He

⁴ Fair [art] thou, my friend, as Tirzah, Comely as Jerusalem, Awe-inspiring as bannered hosts. ⁵ Turn round thine eyes from before me, Because they have made me proud. Thy hair [is] as a row of the goats, That have shone from Gilead, ⁶ Thy teeth as a row of the lambs, That have come up from the washing, Because all of them are forming twins, And a bereaved one is not among them. ⁷ As the work of the pomegranate [is] thy temple behind thy veil. ⁸ Sixty are queens, and eighty concubines, And virgins without number. ⁹ One is my dove, my perfect one, One she [is] of her mother, The choice one she [is] of her that bare her, Daughters saw, and pronounce her happy, Queens and concubines, and they praise her.

¹⁰ `Who [is] this that is looking forth as morning, Fair as the moon -- clear as the sun, Awe-inspiring as bannered hosts?'

She

¹¹ Unto a garden of nuts I went down, To look on the buds of the valley, To see whither the vine had flourished, The pomegranates had blossomed -- ¹² I knew not my soul, It made me -- chariots of my people Nadib.

Others

¹³ Return, return, O Shulammith! Return, return, and we look upon thee.
What do ye see in Shulammith?

Song of Solomon 7

¹ As the chorus of `Mahanaim.' How beautiful were thy feet with sandals, O daughter of Nadib. The turnings of thy sides [are] as ornaments, Work of the hands of an artificer. ² Thy waist [is] a basin of roundness, It lacketh not the mixture, Thy body a heap of wheat, fenced with lilies, ³ Thy two breasts as two young ones, twins of a roe, ⁴ Thy neck as a tower of the ivory, Thine eyes pools in Heshbon, near the gate of Bath-Rabbim, Thy face as a tower of Lebanon looking to Damascus, ⁵ Thy head upon thee as Carmel, And the locks of thy head as purple, The king is bound with the flowings!

⁶ How fair and how pleasant hast thou been, O love, in delights. ⁷ This thy stature hath been like to a palm, And thy breasts to clusters. ⁸ I said, `Let me go up on the palm, Let me lay hold on its boughs, Yea, let thy breasts be, I pray thee, as clusters of the vine, And the fragrance of thy face as citrons,

She

⁹ And thy palate as the good wine --'
Flowing to my beloved in uprightness, Strengthening the lips of the aged!

¹⁰ I [am] my beloved's, and on me [is] his desire.