Song of Songs 7

1How beautiful are thy feet in sandals, O prince’s daughter!
Thy rounded thighs are like jewels,
The work of the hands of a skilful workman.
2Thy body is like a round goblet,
Wherein no mingled wine is wanting:
Thy waist is like a heap of wheat
Set about with lilies.
3Thy two breasts are like two fawns
That are twins of a roe.
4Thy neck is like the tower of ivory;
Thine eyes as the pools in Heshbon,
By the gate of Bath-rabbim;
Thy nose is like the tower of Lebanon
Which looketh toward Damascus.
5Thy head upon thee is like Carmel,
And the hair of thy head like purple;
The king is held captive in the tresses thereof.
6How fair and how pleasant art thou,
O love, for delights!
7This thy stature is like to a palm-tree,
And thy breasts to its clusters.
8I said, I will climb up into the palm-tree,
I will take hold of the branches thereof:
Let thy breasts be as clusters of the vine,
And the smell of thy breath like apples,

9And thy mouth like the best wine,
That goeth down smoothly for my beloved,
Gliding through the lips of those that are asleep.
10I am my beloved’s;
And his desire is toward me.
11Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the field;
Let us lodge in the villages.
12Let us get up early to the vineyards;
Let us see whether the vine hath budded,
And its blossom is open,
And the pomegranates are in flower:
There will I give thee my love.
13The mandrakes give forth fragrance;
And at our doors are all manner of precious fruits, new and old,
Which I have laid up for thee, O my beloved.