Poetry

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May he kiss me with his lips,
and let me take my love's sips;
For your love is better than wine,
by His grace, you are mine.
For the scent of your oils,
Your name is ointment, without soil.
For this, the virgins love you,
your character is found most true.
Draw me away; you I'll run after;
My love extends beyond the rafters.
My lord has brought me to his chambers,
And I feel no sense of danger.

Be glad for us, rejoice for me;
This love is my earthly glee;
Rightly, I am loved,
and found within;
This god-given passion
is without sin.

His banner over me,
one of love,
His love is,
my heart's glove.
Feed me with
raisin cakes;
My desire for you,
grows and aches;
Feed me with apples,
I am lovesick;
My passion's sweat
do not wick.

His right hand holds me;
supports my head;
My mate's love,
covers the bed.

You are charged,
daughters of the King,
Do not stir or awaken,
or let love sing;
Until it is pleasing
to Him above,
Guard your heart,
and its love.




Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth--
For your love is better than wine.
Because of the fragrance of your good ointments,
Your name is ointment poured forth;
Therefore the virgins love you.
Draw me away!
We will run after you.
The king has brought me into his chambers.
We will be glad and rejoice in you.
We will remember your love more than wine.
Rightly do they love 1you.

He brought me to the banqueting house,
And his banner over me was love.
Sustain me with cakes of raisins,
Refresh me with apples,
For I am lovesick.
His left hand is under my head,
And his right hand embraces me.
I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem,
By the gazelles or by the does of the field,
Do not stir up nor awaken love
Until it pleases.
--Solomon 1:2-4; 2:4-7

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