Song of Solomon 6
1 Whither hath thy beloved gone, O fair among women? Whither hath thy beloved turned, And we seek him with thee?
O the fairest among women, whither is thy welbeloued gone? whither is thy welbeloued turned aside, that we may seeke him with thee?
2 My beloved went down to his garden, To the beds of the spice, To delight himself in the gardens, and to gather lilies.
My welbeloued is gone downe into his garden to the beds of spices, to feede in the gardens, and to gather lilies.
3 I [am] my beloved's, and my beloved [is] mine, Who is delighting himself among the lilies.
I am my welbeloueds, and my welbeloued is mine, who feedeth among the lilies.
4 Fair [art] thou, my friend, as Tirzah, Comely as Jerusalem, Awe-inspiring as bannered hosts.
Thou art beautifull, my loue, as Tirzah, comely as Ierusale, terrible as an army with baners.
5 Turn round thine eyes from before me, Because they have made me proud. Thy hair [is] as a row of the goats, That have shone from Gilead,
Turne away thine eyes from me: for they ouercome mee: thine heare is like a flocke of goates, which looke downe from Gilead.
6 Thy teeth as a row of the lambs, That have come up from the washing, Because all of them are forming twins, And a bereaved one is not among them.
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.
7 As the work of the pomegranate [is] thy temple behind thy veil.
Thy temples are within thy lockes as a piece of a pomegranate.
8 Sixty are queens, and eighty concubines, And virgins without number.
There are threescore Queenes and fourescore concubines and of the damsels without nober.
9 One is my dove, my perfect one, One she [is] of her mother, The choice one she [is] of her that bare her, Daughters saw, and pronounce her happy, Queens and concubines, and they praise her.
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.
10 'Who [is] this that is looking forth as morning, Fair as the moon — clear as the sun, Awe-inspiring as bannered hosts?'
Who is shee that looketh foorth as the morning, fayre as the moone, pure as the sunne, terrible as an armie with banners!
11 Unto a garden of nuts I went down, To look on the buds of the valley, To see whither the vine had flourished, The pomegranates had blossomed —
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.
12 I knew not my soul, It made me — chariots of my people Nadib.
I knewe nothing, my soule set me as the charets of my noble people.
13 Return, return, O Shulammith! Return, return, and we look upon thee. What do ye see in Shulammith?
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?
