< Song of Solomon 7 >

1 Douytir of the prince, thi goyngis ben ful faire in schoon; the ioyncturis of thi heppis ben as brochis, that ben maad bi the hond of a crafti man.
How beautiful are your feet in sandals, prince’s daughter! Your rounded thighs are like jewels, the work of the hands of a skilful workman.
2 Thi nawle is as a round cuppe, and wel formed, that hath neuere nede to drynkis; thi wombe is as an heep of whete, biset aboute with lilies.
Your body is like a round goblet, no mixed wine is wanting. Your waist is like a heap of wheat, set about with lilies.
3 Thi twei teetis ben as twei kidis, twynnes of a capret.
Your two breasts are like two fawns, that are twins of a roe.
4 Thi necke is as a tour of yuer; thin iyen ben as cisternes in Esebon, that ben in the yate of the douyter of multitude; thi nose is as the tour of Liban, that biholdith ayens Damask.
Your neck is like an ivory tower. Your eyes are like the pools in Heshbon by the gate of Bathrabbim. Your nose is like the tower of Lebanon which looks towards Damascus.
5 Thin heed is as Carmele; and the heeres of thin heed ben as the kyngis purpur, ioyned to trowyis.
Your head on you is like Carmel. The hair of your head like purple. The king is held captive in its tresses.
6 Dereworthe spousesse, thou art ful fair, and ful schappli in delices.
How beautiful and how pleasant you are, love, for delights!
7 Thi stature is licned to a palm tree, and thi tetis to clustris of grapis.
This, your stature, is like a palm tree, your breasts like its fruit.
8 I seide, Y schal stie in to a palm tree, and Y schal take the fruytis therof. And thi tetis schulen be as the clustris of grapis of a vyner; and the odour of thi mouth as the odour of pumgranatis;
I said, “I will climb up into the palm tree. I will take hold of its fruit.” Let your breasts be like clusters of the vine, the smell of your breath like apples.
9 thi throte schal be as beste wyn. Worthi to my derlyng for to drynke, and to hise lippis and teeth to chewe.
Your mouth is like the best wine, that goes down smoothly for my beloved, gliding through the lips of those who are asleep.
10 Y schal cleue by loue to my derlyng, and his turnyng schal be to me.
I am my beloved’s. His desire is towards me.
11 Come thou, my derlyng, go we out in to the feeld; dwelle we togidere in townes.
Come, my beloved! Let’s go out into the field. Let’s lodge in the villages.
12 Ryse we eerli to the vyner; se we, if the vyner hath flourid, if the flouris bryngen forth fruytis, if pumgranatis han flourid; there I schal yyue to thee my tetis.
Let’s go early up to the vineyards. Let’s see whether the vine has budded, its blossom is open, and the pomegranates are in flower. There I will give you my love.
13 Mandrogoris han youe her odour in oure yatis; my derlyng, Y haue kept to thee alle applis, new and elde.
The mandrakes produce fragrance. At our doors are all kinds of precious fruits, new and old, which I have stored up for you, my beloved.

< Song of Solomon 7 >