the Fourth Week of Advent
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Bishop's Bible
Song of Solomon 4
1 O howe fayre art thou my loue, howe fayre art thou? thou hast doues eyes, beside that which lyeth hid within: Thy heerie lockes are lyke the wooll of a flocke of goates that be shorne vpon mount Gilead.2 Thy teeth are like a flocke [of sheepe] of the same bignesse whiche went vp from the washing place, where euery one beareth two twinnes, and not one vnfruitfull among them.3 Thy lippes are lyke a rose coloured ribande, thy wordes are louely, thy cheekes are like a peece of a pomegranate within thyne heeres.4 Thy necke is like the towre of Dauid buylded with costly stones, lying out on the sides wherevpon there hange a thousande shieldes: yea all the weapons of the giauntes.5 Thy two breastes are lyke two twinnes of young Roes, whiche feede among roses.6 O that I might go to the mountaine of myrre, and to the hil of frankencense, til the day breake, and til the shadowes be past away.7 Thou art all fayre (O my loue) and no spot is there in thee.
8 Come to me from Libanus (O my spouse) come to me from Libanus: looke from the top of Amana, from the top of Sanir and Hermon, from the lions dennes, and from the mountaines of the leopardes.9 Thou hast [with loue] bewitched my heart O my sister my spouse, thou hast bewitched my heart with one of thyne eyes, and with one chayne of thy necke.10 O howe fayre are thy breastes, my sister, my spouse? Thy breastes are more pleasaunt then wine, and the smell of thyne oyntmentes passeth all spices.11 Thy lippes, O my spouse, drop as the hony combe, yea mylke and hony is vnder thy tongue, and the smell of thy garmentes is like the smell of Libanus.12 A garden well locked is my sister, my spouse: a garden well locked, and a sealed well.13 The fruites that are planted in thee, are lyke a very paradise of pomegranates with sweete fruites, as Camphire, 14 Nardus, & Saffron, Calamus, Sinamom, with all sweete smellyng trees, Myrre, Aloes, and all the best spyces,
15 a well of gardens, a well of liuing waters which runne downe from Libanus.16 Up thou north winde, come thou south winde and blowe vpon my garden, that the smell therof may be caryed on euery side: yea that my beloued may come into his garden, and eate of the sweete fruites [that growe therein.]