American Standard Version
Song of Songs 2
1I am a rose of Sharon, A lily of the valleys. Share to feedTweet 2As a lily among thorns, So is my love among the daughters. Share to feedTweet 3As the apple-tree among the trees of the wood, So is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, And his fruit was sweet to my taste. Share to feedTweet 4He brought me to the banqueting-house, And his banner over me was love. Share to feedTweet 5Stay ye me with raisins, refresh me with apples; For I am sick from love. Share to feedTweet 6His left handisunder my head, And his right hand doth embrace me. Share to feedTweet 7I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, By the roes, or by the hinds of the field, That ye stir not up, nor awake my love, Until he please. Share to feedTweet 8The voice of my beloved! behold, he cometh, Leaping upon the mountains, Skipping upon the hills. Share to feedTweet 9My beloved is like a roe or a young hart: Behold, he standeth behind our wall; He looketh in at the windows; He glanceth through the lattice. Share to feedTweet 10My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away. Share to feedTweet 11For, lo, the winter is past; The rain is over and gone; Share to feedTweet 12The flowers appear on the earth; The time of the singing of birds is come, And the voice of the turtle-dove is heard in our land; Share to feedTweet 13The fig-tree ripeneth her green figs, And the vines are in blossom; They give forth their fragrance. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away. Share to feedTweet 14O my dove, that art in the clefts of the rock, In the covert of the steep place, Let me see thy countenance, Let me hear thy voice; For sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely. Share to feedTweet 15Take us the foxes, the little foxes, That spoil the vineyards; For our vineyards are in blossom. Share to feedTweet 16My beloved is mine, and I am his: He feedeth his flock among the lilies. Share to feedTweet 17Until the day be cool, and the shadows flee away, Turn, my beloved, and be thou like a roe or a young hart Upon the mountains of Bether. Share to feedTweet