1
My welbeloued is gone downe into his garden to the beds of spices, to feede in the gardens, and to gather lilies.
2
I am my welbeloueds, and my welbeloued is mine, who feedeth among the lilies.
More beautiful than all are you!
3
Thou art beautifull, my loue, as Tirzah, comely as Ierusale, terrible as an army with baners.
4
Turne away thine eyes from me: for they ouercome mee: thine heare is like a flocke of goates, which looke downe from Gilead.
5
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.
6
Thy temples are within thy lockes as a piece of a pomegranate.
7
There are threescore Queenes and fourescore concubines and of the damsels without nober.
8
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.
9
Who is shee that looketh foorth as the morning, fayre as the moone, pure as the sunne, terrible as an armie with banners!
10
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.
11
I knewe nothing, my soule set me as the charets of my noble people.
12
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?