Song of songs 7

1 How beautiful are thy feet with shoes,
O prince's daughter!
The joints of thy thighs are like jewels,
The work of the hands of a cunning workman.
2 Thy navel is like a round goblet,
Which wanteth not liquor:
Thy belly is like an heap of wheat
Set about with lilies.
3 Thy two breasts are like two young roes
That are twins.
4 Thy neck is as a tower of ivory;
Thine eyes like the fishpools in Heshbon,
By the gate of Bathrabbim:
Thy nose is as the tower of Lebanon
Which looketh toward Damascus.
5 Thine head upon thee is like Carmel,
And the hair of thine head like purple;
The king is held in the galleries.

6 How fair and how pleasant art thou,
O love, for delights!
7 This thy stature is like to a palm tree,
And thy breasts to clusters of grapes.
8 I said, I will go up to the palm tree,
I will take hold of the boughs thereof:
Now also thy breasts shall be as clusters of the vine,
And the smell of thy nose like apples;
9 And the roof of thy mouth like the best wine
For my beloved, that goeth down sweetly,
Causing the lips of those that are asleep to speak.

10 I am my beloved's,
And his desire is toward me.
11 Come, my beloved,
Let us go forth into the field;
Let us lodge in the villages.
12 Let us get up early to the vineyards;
Let us see if the vine flourish,
Whether the tender grape appear,
And the pomegranates bud forth:
There will I give thee my loves.
13 The mandrakes give a smell,
And at our gates are all manner of pleasant fruits,
New and old,
Which I have laid up for thee, O my beloved.
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