1901 American Standard Version (ASV)

Song of Songs 4

1 Christ setteth forth the graces of the Church. 8 He sheweth his love to her. 16 The Church prayeth to be made fit for his presence.

 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.

 4:2 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.

 4:3 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.

 4:4 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.

 4:5 Thy two breasts are like two fawns That are twins of a roe, Which feed among the lilies.

 4:6 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.

 4:7 Thou art all fair, my love; And there is no spot in thee.

 4:8 ¶ 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.

 4:9 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.

 4:10 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!

 4:11 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.

 4:12 A garden shut up is my sister, [my] bride; A spring shut up, a fountain sealed.

 4:13 Thy shoots are an orchard of pomegranates, with precious fruits; Henna with spikenard plants,

 4:14 Spikenard and saffron, Calamus and cinnamon, with all trees of frankincense; Myrrh and aloes, with all the chief spices.

 4:15 [Thou art] a fountain of gardens, A well of living waters, And flowing streams from Lebanon.

 4:16 ¶ 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.