The Song of Solomon Chapter 4 / ASV

American Standard Version
The Song of Solomon, Chapter 4

   1: Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; Thine eyes are [as] doves behind thy veil. Thy hair is as a flock of goats, That lie along the side of mount Gilead.
   2: Thy teeth are like a flock [of ewes] that are [newly] shorn, Which are come up from the washing, Whereof every one hath twins, And none is bereaved among them.
   3: Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet, And thy mouth is comely. Thy temples are like a piece of a pomegranate Behind thy veil.
   4: Thy neck is like the tower of David builded for an armory, Whereon there hang a thousand bucklers, All the shields of the mighty men.
   5: Thy two breasts are like two fawns That are twins of a roe, Which feed among the lilies.
   6: Until the day be cool, and the shadows flee away, I will get me to the mountain of myrrh, And to the hill of frankincense.
   7: Thou art all fair, my love; And there is no spot in thee.
   8: Come with me from Lebanon, [my] bride, With me from Lebanon: Look from the top of Amana, From the top of Senir and Hermon, From the lions' dens, From the mountains of the leopards.
   9: Thou hast ravished my heart, my sister, [my] bride; Thou hast ravished my heart with one of thine eyes, With one chain of thy neck.
   10: How fair is thy love, my sister, [my] bride! How much better is thy love than wine! And the fragrance of thine oils than all manner of spices!
   11: Thy lips, O [my] bride, drop [as] the honeycomb: Honey and milk are under thy tongue; And the smell of thy garments is like the smell of Lebanon.
   12: A garden shut up is my sister, [my] bride; A spring shut up, a fountain sealed.
   13: Thy shoots are an orchard of pomegranates, with precious fruits; Henna with spikenard plants,
   14: Spikenard and saffron, Calamus and cinnamon, with all trees of frankincense; Myrrh and aloes, with all the chief spices.
   15: [Thou art] a fountain of gardens, A well of living waters, And flowing streams from Lebanon.
   16: Awake, O north wind; and come, thou south; Blow upon my garden, that the spices thereof may flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden, And eat his precious fruits.

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