Song 4 | EngLXX | STEP | Behold, you are fair, my companion; behold, you are fair; your eyes are doves, beside yourveil: your hair is as flocks of goats, that have appeared from Galaad.

Song of Solomon 4

1 Behold, you are fair, my companion; behold, you are fair; your eyes are doves, beside yourveil: your hair is as flocks of goats, that have appeared from Galaad. 2 Your teeth are as flocks of shornsheep, that have gone up from the washing; all of them bearing twins, and there is not a barrenone among them. 3 Your lips are as a thread of scarlet, and your speech is comely: like the rind of a pomegranateis your cheek without your veil. 4 Your neck is as the tower of David, that was built for an armory: a thousand shields hangupon it,and all darts of mighty men. 5 Your two breasts are as two twin fawns, that feed among the lilies. 6 Until the day dawn, and the shadows depart, I will betake me to the mountain of myrrh,and to the hill of frankincense. 7 You are all fair, my companion, and there is no spot in you. 8 Come from Libanus,my bride, come from Libanus: you shall come and pass from the top of Faith, from the top ofSanir and Hermon, from the lions' dens, from the mountains of the leopards. 9 My sister,my spouse, you have ravished my heart; you have ravished my heart with one of your eyes, withone chain of your neck. 10 How beautiful are your breasts, my sister, my spouse! how much more beautiful are yourbreasts than wine, and the smell of your garments than all spices! 11 Your lips drop honeycomb, my spouse: honey and milk are under your tongue; and the smellof your garments is as the smell of Libanus. 12 My sister,my spouse is a garden enclosed; a garden enclosed, a fountain sealed. 13 Your shoots are a garden of pomegranates, with the fruit of choice berries; camphor,with spikenard: 14 spikenard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon; with all woods of Libanus, myrrh, aloes,with all chief spices: 15 a fountain of a garden, and a well of water springing and gurgling from Libanus. 16 Awake, O north wind; and come, O south; and blow through my garden, and let my spicesflow out.