Song of Songs 7

How beautiful are thy feet with shoes, O prince’s daughter! The joints of thy thighs are like jewels, The work of the hands of a cunning workman.

Thy navel is like a round goblet, which wanteth not liquor: Thy belly is like a heap of wheat set about with lilies.

Thy two breasts are like two young roes that are twins.

Thy neck is as a tower of ivory; Thine eyes like the fishpools in Heshbon, by the gate of Bath-rabbim: Thy nose is as the tower of Lebanon which looketh toward Damascus.

Thine head upon thee is like Carmel, And the hair of thine head like purple; The king is held in the galleries.

How fair and how pleasant art thou, O love, for delights!

This thy stature is like to a palm tree, And thy breasts to clusters of grapes.

I said, I will go up to the palm tree, I will take hold of the boughs thereof: Now also thy breasts shall be as clusters of the vine, And the smell of thy nose like apples;

And the roof of thy mouth like the best wine, For my beloved, that goeth down sweetly, Causing the lips of those that are asleep to speak.

I am my beloved’s, and his desire is towards me.

Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the field; Let us lodge in the villages.

Let us get up early to the vineyards; Let us see if the vine flourish, whether the tender grape appear, And the pomegranates bud forth: There will I give thee my loves.

The mandrakes give a smell, And at our gates are all manner of pleasant fruits, New and old, Which I have laid up for thee, O my beloved.