Song of Songs 7

7 ¹How beautiful are thy feet in sandals, O prince's daughter!

Thy rounded thighs are like jewels,

The work of the hands of a skilful workman.

²Thy body is like a round goblet,

Wherein no mingled wine is wanting:

Thy waist is like a heap of wheat

Set about with lilies.

³Thy two breasts are like two fawns

That are twins of a roe.

⁴Thy neck is like the tower of ivory;

Thine eyes as the pools in Heshbon,

By the gate of Bath-rabbim;

Thy nose is like the tower of Lebanon

Which looketh toward Damascus.

⁵Thy head upon thee is like Carmel,

And the hair of thy head like purple;

The king is held captive in the tresses thereof.

⁶How fair and how pleasant art thou,

O love, for delights!

⁷This thy stature is like to a palm-tree,

And thy breasts to its clusters.

⁸I said, I will climb up into the palm-tree,

I will take hold of the branches thereof:

Let thy breasts be as clusters of the vine,

And the smell of thy breath like apples,

⁹And thy mouth like the best wine,

That goeth down smoothly for my beloved,

Gliding through the lips of those that are asleep.

¹⁰I am my beloved's;

And his desire is toward me.

¹¹Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the field;

Let us lodge in the villages.

¹²Let us get up early to the vineyards;

Let us see whether the vine hath budded,

And its blossom is open,

And the pomegranates are in flower:

There will I give thee my love.

¹³The mandrakes give forth fragrance;

And at our doors are all manner of precious fruits, new and old,

Which I have laid up for thee, O my beloved.