Song of Songs 
5
  -  I have come into my garden, my sister, my 
    bride; I have gathered my myrrh with my spice. I have eaten my honeycomb and 
    my honey; I have drunk my wine and my milk. Eat, O friends, and drink; drink 
    your fill, O lovers.
 
  -  I slept but my heart was awake. Listen! 
    My lover is knocking: "Open to me, my sister, my darling, my dove, my 
    flawless one. My head is drenched with dew, my hair with the dampness of the 
    night."
 
  -  I have taken off my robe--must I put it 
    on again? I have washed my feet -- must I soil them again ?
 
  -  My lover thrust his hand through the latch-opening; 
    my heart began to pound for him.
 
  -  I arose to open for my lover, and my hands 
    dripped with myrrh, my fingers with flowing myrrh, on the handles of the lock.
 
  -  I opened for my lover, but my lover had 
    left; he was gone. My heart sank at his departure. I looked for him but did 
    not find him. I called him but he did not answer.
 
  -  The watchmen found me as they made their 
    rounds in the city. They beat me, they bruised me; they took away my cloak, 
    those watchmen of the walls !
 
  -  O daughters of Jerusalem, I charge you--if 
    you find my lover, what will you tell him? Tell him I am faint with love.
 
  -  How is your beloved better than others, 
    most beautiful of women? How is your beloved better than others, that you 
    charge us so ?
 
  -  My lover is radiant and ruddy, outstanding 
    among ten thousand.
 
  -  His head is purest gold; his hair is wavy 
    and black as a raven.
 
  -  His eyes are like doves by the water streams, 
    washed in milk, mounted like jewels.
 
  -  His cheeks are like beds of spice yielding 
    perfume. His lips are like lilies dripping with myrrh.
 
  -  His arms are rods of gold set with chrysolite. 
    His body is like polished ivory decorated with sapphires.
 
  -  His legs are pillars of marble set on bases 
    of pure gold. His appearance is like Lebanon, choice as its cedars.
 
  -  His mouth is sweetness itself; he is altogether 
    lovely. This is my lover, this my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem. 
      
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