Song of Songs 6

My welbeloued is gone downe into his garden to the beds of spices, to feede in the gardens, and to gather lilies.

I am my welbeloueds, and my welbeloued is mine, who feedeth among the lilies.

Thou art beautifull, my loue, as Tirzah, comely as Ierusale, terrible as an army with baners.

Turne away thine eyes from me: for they ouercome mee: thine heare is like a flocke of goates, which looke downe from Gilead.

Thy teeth are like a flocke of sheepe, which goe vp from the washing, which euery one bring out twinnes, and none is barren among them.

Thy temples are within thy lockes as a piece of a pomegranate.

There are threescore Queenes and fourescore concubines and of the damsels without nober.

But my doue is alone, and my vndefiled, she is the onely daughter of her mother, and shee is deare to her that bare her: the daughters haue seene her and counted her blessed: euen the Queenes and the concubines, and they haue praised her.

Who is shee that looketh foorth as the morning, fayre as the moone, pure as the sunne, terrible as an armie with banners!

I went downe to the garden of nuttes, to see the fruites of the valley, to see if the vine budded, and if the pomegranates flourished.

I knewe nothing, my soule set me as the charets of my noble people.

Returne, returne, O Shulamite, returne: returne that we may behold thee. What shall you see in the Shulamite, but as the company of an armie?