Song of Songs 7

1How beautiful are thy footsteps in sandals, O prince's daughter! The roundings of thy thighs are like jewels, The work of the hands of an artist.

2Thy navel is a round goblet, [which] wanteth not mixed wine; Thy belly a heap of wheat, set about with lilies;

3Thy two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle;

4Thy neck is as a tower of ivory; Thine eyes, [like] the pools in Heshbon, By the gate of Bath-rabbim; Thy nose like the tower of Lebanon, Which looketh toward Damascus;

5Thy head upon thee is like Carmel, And the locks of thy head like purple; The king is fettered by [thy] ringlets!

6How fair and how pleasant art thou, [my] love, in delights!

7This thy stature is like to a palm-tree, And thy breasts to grape clusters.

8I said, I will go up to the palm-tree, I will take hold of the boughs thereof; And thy breasts shall indeed be like clusters of the vine, And the fragrance of thy nose like apples,

9And the roof of thy mouth like the best wine, ...That goeth down smoothly for my beloved, And stealeth over the lips of them that are asleep.

10I am my beloved's, And his desire is toward me.

11— Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the fields; Let us lodge in the villages.

12We will go up early to the vineyards, We will see if the vine hath budded, [If] the blossom is opening, And the pomegranates are in bloom: There will I give thee my loves.

13The mandrakes yield fragrance; And at our gates are all choice fruits, new and old: I have laid them up for thee, my beloved.