Song of Songs.
Chapter 5.
My darling my bride, I have entered my garden. I have gathered my myrrh and spice. I have eaten my honey and honeycomb. I have drunk my wine and milk. Dearest friends, eat, drink! Be drunk with love! 
I am asleep, but my heart is awake. I hear my lover knocking, saying, “Open to me, my darling, my love, my dove, my perfect one! My head is soaked with dew. My hair is wet with the mist of the night.” 
“I have taken off my robe. I don’t want to put it on again. I have washed my feet. I don’t want to get them dirty again.” 
But my lover put his hand through the opening, and I felt sorry for him. 
I got up to open for my lover, myrrh dripping from my hands, myrrh scented lotion dripped from my fingers onto the handles of the lock. 
I opened for my lover, but my lover had turned away and was gone! I nearly died when he came and went. I looked for him, but I couldn’t find him. I called for him, but he didn’t answer me. 
The guards patrolling the city found me. They hit me. They hurt me. The guards on the wall took my robe from me. 
I tell you, women of Jerusalem, if you find my lover, tell him I am weak with love. 
Beautiful woman, how is your lover different from other lovers? Is your lover better than other lovers? Is that why you ask us to make this promise? 
My lover is tanned and radiant. He would stand out among 10,000 men. 
His head is like the purest gold. His hair is curly and as black as a raven. 
His eyes are like doves by a stream, like doves in a pool of milk, like a jewel in its setting. 
His cheeks are like a garden of spices, like flowers used for perfume. His lips are like lilies, dripping with liquid myrrh. 
His arms are like gold rods, filled with jewels. His body is like smooth ivory with sapphires set in it. 
His legs are like marble pillars on bases of fine gold. He stands tall like the finest cedar tree in Lebanon! 
Yes, women of Jerusalem, my lover is everything I desire. His mouth is the sweetest of all. This is my lover; this is my darling. 
