Song of Solomon 1:7-17

Tell me, O you whom my soul loves, Where do you pasture your flock, Where do you make it lie down at noon? For why should I be like one who veils herself Beside the flocks of your companions?” “If you yourself do not know, Most beautiful among women, Go forth on the trail of the flock And pasture your young goats By the tents of the shepherds. “To me, my darling, you are like My mare among the chariots of Pharaoh. Your cheeks are lovely with ornaments, Your neck with strings of beads.” “We will make for you ornaments of gold With beads of silver.” “While the king was at his table, My perfume gave forth its fragrance. My beloved is to me a pouch of myrrh Which lies all night between my breasts. My beloved is to me a cluster of henna blossoms In the vineyards of Engedi.” “How beautiful you are, my darling, How beautiful you are! Your eyes are like doves.” “How handsome you are, my beloved, And so pleasant! Indeed, our couch is luxuriant! The beams of our houses are cedars, Our rafters, cypresses.

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