Matthew(i)
1 O how pleasaunt are thy treadinges with thy shoes, thou princes daughter? Thy thinges are like a fayre iewel, which is wrought by a connyng worke master:
2 Thy nauell is like a round goblet, which is neuer without drynke: Thy wombe is like an heap of wheat, set about with Lylies:
3 Thy two brestes are lyke two twynnes of yong roes:
4 Thy necke is as it were a tower of yuery: thyne eyes are lyke the water poles in Hesebon, beside the porte of Bathrabbim: thy nose is like the tower of Libanus, which loketh toward Damascus:
5 That head that standeth vpon the is lyke Carmel: the heare of thy head is like the kynges purple folden vp in plates.
6 O how fayre & louely art thou, my dearlyng, in pleasures?
7 Thy stature is like a date tree, and thy brestes like the grapes. I sayde:
8 I will clymme vp into the date tree, and take holde of hys braunches. Thy brestes also shalbe as the vyne grapes, the smell of thy nostrels lyke the smell of apples,
9 and thy throte like the beste wine. This shalbe pure and cleare for my loue, his lippes & teth shal haue their pleasure.
10 There wyll I turne me vnto my loue, and he shall turne hym vnto me.
11 O come on my loue, let vs go forth into the felde, and take oure lodgynge in the vyllages.
12 In the mornyng wyll we ryse by tymes, and go se the vyneyarde: if it be sprong forth, if the grapes be growne, & if the pomegranates be shut out. There wil I geue the my brestes:
13 there shall the Mandragoras geue their smell besyde oure dores: there, O my loue, haue I kepte vnto the all maner of frutes, both newe and olde.