Song of Solomon.

Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth

for thy love is better than wine.

His fruit was sweet to my taste,

his left hand is under my head

and his right hand doth embrace me.

Behold thou art fair, my love,

behold thou art fair.

Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet,

thine eyes are as doves behind the veil

and comely is thy mouth.

Thy two breasts are like fawns

feeding among the lilies,

thy navel is like a round goblet

wherein no mingled wine is wanting,

thy belly is like a heap of wheat

set about with lilies.

Let thy breasts be as clusters on the vine

and thy mouth like the best wine.

Open to me, my dove,

for my head is filled with the drops

of the night.

Come my beloved,

let us see if the vine flourishes

and the tender grapes appear

and the pomegranates bud forth.