Song of Songs

Great(i) 1 2 O that he wold kysse me with the kysses of his mouth: for thy loue is more pleasaunt then wyne, 3 & that, because of the good & pleasaunt sauoure of thy most preciouse balmes. Thy name is a swete smellynge oyntment when it is shed forthe, therfore do the maydens loue the: 4 drawe thou me vnto the: we wyll runne after the. The kynge hath brought me into hys preuy chambres. We wyll be glad & reioyce in the, we thynke more of thy loue then of wyne. They that be ryghteous loue the. 5 I am black (O ye daughters of Ierusalem) lyke as the tentes of the Cedarenes, & as the hangynges of Salomon: 6 but yet am I fayre & well fauoured withall. Maruell not at me that I am so black: for why? the sunne hath shyned vpon me. My mothers chyldren had euell wyll at me, they made me the keper of the vyneyeardes: but myne owne vyneyarde haue I not kept. 7 Tell me of him whom my soule louethe where thou fedest the shepe, where thou makest them rest at the noone daye: for why shall I belyke him, that goeth wronge aboute the flockes of thy companyons? 8 Yf thou knowe not thy selfe (O thou fayrest amonge wemen) then go thy waye forth after the fotesteppes of the shepe, and fede thy goates besyde the shepeherdes tentes. 9 Unto the hoost of Pharaos charettes haue I compared the, O my loue. 10 Thy chekes and thy neck is beawtyfull as the turtyls, and hanged with spanges and goodly Iewels: 11 a neck bande of golde wyll we make the with syluer buttons. 12 When the kynge sytteth at the table, he shall smell my Nardus: 13 a bondell of Myrre is my loue vnto me: he wyll lye betwixte my breastes. 14 A cluster of Camphore in the vyneardes of Engaddi is my loue vnto me. 15 O howe fayre art thou (my loue) Oh howe fayre art thou? thou hast doues eyes. 16 O how fayre art thou (my beloued) howe well fauored art thou? Oure bed is decte with floures, 17 the sylynges of oure house are of Cedre tree, and oure crosse ioyntes of Cypresse.