Song of Songs 7
1HOW beautiful were thy steps in thy sandals, O prince’s daughter! The proportions of thy thighs are like jewelry, the work of an artist:
2thy navel is a well-turned goblet, not emptied of blended wine: thy body is like a heap of wheat encompassed about with lilies:
3thy two breasts are like two twin fawns of a roe;
4thy neck is like a tower of ivory. Thine eyes like the pools at Esebon by the gates of the daughter of many: thy nose is like the tower of Lebanon which looketh towards Damascus:
5thy head is like Karmel and the tresses of thy head like Purpura.
The king is detained in the antechamber!
6How beautiful thou art! and how sweet! O my love! how delightful!
7In respect to thy stateliness, thou hast been compared to the palm tree, and thy breasts to its clusters.
8I said, I will climb the palm tree—I will clasp its topmost boughs; and thy breasts shall be now like the clusters of the vine; and the smell of thy nose like citrons;
9and the roof of thy mouth like choice wine—
Which is poured out rightly for my dear brother properly adapted with my lips and my teeth.
10I am my dear brother’s; and towards me is his desire.
11Come, my dear brother, let us go out to the fields. Let us lodge in the villages:
12let us get up early to the vineyards: let us see whether the vine is budded: whether the young grape has made its appearance: whether the pomegranates are in blossom. There I will grant thee my breasts.
13The mandrakes have shed a fragrance: and in our hoards are all manner of delicious fruits, newly gathered as well as old. For thee, my dear brother I have kept them.