4 It was but a little that I passed from them, When I found him whom my soul loveth: I held him, and would not let him go, Until I had brought him into my mother's house, And into the chamber of her that conceived me.
5 I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, By the roes, or by the hinds of the field, That ye stir not up, nor awake `my' love, Until he please.
6 Who is this that cometh up from the wilderness Like pillars of smoke, Perfumed with myrrh and frankincense, With all powders of the merchant?
7 Behold, it is the litter of Solomon; Threescore mighty men are about it, Of the mighty men of Israel.
8 They all handle the sword, `and' are expert in war: Every man hath his sword upon his thigh, Because of fear in the night.
Share this page