1I am come into my garden, my sister, my spouse, I gathered my myrrh with my spice: I ate mine honeycomb with mine honey, I drank my wine with my milk: eat, O friends, drink, and make you merry, O well-beloved.
2I sleep, but mine heart waketh, it is the voice of my well-beloved that knocketh, saying, Open unto me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled: for mine head is full of dew, and my locks with the drops of the night.
3I have put off my coat, how shall I defile [put] it on? I have washed my feet, how shall I defile them?
4My well-beloved put in his hand by the hole of the door, and mine heart was affectioned toward him.
5I rose up to open to my well-beloved, and mine hands did drop down myrrh, and my fingers pure myrrh upon the handles of the bar.
6I opened to my well-beloved: but my well-beloved was gone and past: mine heart was gone when he did speak: I sought him, but I could not find him: I called him, but he answered me not.
7The watchmen that were about the city, found me: they smote me, and wounded me: the watchmen of the walls took away my veil from me.
8I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if you find my well-beloved, that you tell him that I am sick of love.
9O the fairest among women, what is thy well-beloved more than other well-beloved? what is thy well-beloved more than another lover, that thou dost so charge us?
10My well-beloved is white and ruddy, the chiefest of ten thousand.
11His head is as fine gold, his locks curled, and black as a raven.
12His eyes are like doves upon the rivers of waters, which are washed with milk, and remain by the full vessels.
13His cheeks are as a bed of spices, and as sweet flowers, and his lips like lilies dropping down pure myrrh.
14His hands as rings of gold set with the chrysolite, his belly like white ivory covered with sapphires.
15His legs are as pillars of marble set upon sockets of fine gold: his countenance as Lebanon, excellent as the cedars.
16His mouth is as sweet things, and he is wholly delectable: this is my well-beloved, and this is my lover, O daughters of Jerusalem.
17O the fairest among women, whither is thy well-beloved gone? whither is thy well-beloved turned aside, that we may seek him with thee?