Song of Solomon 5

I have come into my garden, my sister, my bride.
I have gathered my myrrh with my spices;
I have eaten my honeycomb with my honey;
I have drunk my wine with my milk.
Eat, friends;
drink and be intoxicated, beloved ones! I was sleeping, but my heart was awake.
The sound of my beloved knocking!
“Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my perfect one, for my head is wet with dew, my locks with the drops of the night.” I have taken off my tunic;
how can I put it on again?
I have washed my feet;
how can I soil them? My beloved put his hand through the opening, and yearning stirred within me for him. I rose to open to my beloved;
my hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with liquid myrrh on the handles of the bolt. I opened to my beloved, but my beloved had withdrawn and gone.
My soul fainted when he spoke.
I sought him but did not find him;
I called him, but he did not answer me. The watchmen making their rounds in the city found me;
they struck me and wounded me.
The watchmen of the walls took my mantle from me. I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem: if you find my beloved, what will you tell him?
That I am sick with love. What makes your beloved more than another beloved, most beautiful among women?
What makes your beloved more than another beloved, that you adjure us this way? My beloved is radiant and ruddy, distinguished among ten thousand. His head is gold, pure gold;
his locks are wavy, black as a raven. His eyes are like doves beside streams of water, washed in milk, resting in their settings. His cheeks are like a bed of spices, banks of perfume.
His lips are lilies dripping liquid myrrh. His hands are rods of gold set with beryl;
his belly is a panel of ivory overlaid with sapphires. His legs are pillars of marble set on bases of pure gold.
His appearance is like Lebanon, choice as the cedars. His palate is sweetness, and all of him is desirable.
This is my beloved, and this is my friend, daughters of Jerusalem.

Rights and attribution