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Song of Solomon - Chapter: 7

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7:1How 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.
7:2Thy navel is like a round goblet, which wanteth not liquor: thy belly is like an heap of wheat set about with lilies.
7:3Thy two breasts are like two young roes that are twins.
7:4Thy 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.
7:5Thine head upon thee is like Carmel, and the hair of thine head like purple; the king is held in the galleries.
7:6How fair and how pleasant art thou, O love, for delights!
7:7This thy stature is like to a palm tree, and thy breasts to clusters of grapes.
7:8I 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;
7:9And 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.
7:10I am my beloved's, and his desire is toward me.
7:11Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the field; let us lodge in the villages.
7:12Let 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.
7:13The 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.

 

7:1Howe beautifull are thy goings with shooes, O princes daughter! the ioynts of thy thighs are like iewels: the worke of the hande of a cunning workeman.
7:2Thy nauel is as a round cuppe that wanteth not licour: thy belly is as an heape of wheat compassed about with lilies.
7:3Thy two breastes are as two young roes that are twinnes.
7:4Thy necke is like a towre of yuorie: thine eyes are like the fishe pooles in Heshbon by the gate of Bath-rabbim: thy nose is as the towre of Lebanon, that looketh toward Damascus.
7:5Thine head vpon thee is as skarlet, and the bush of thine head like purple: the King is tyed in the rafters.
7:6Howe faire art thou, and howe pleasant art thou, O my loue, in pleasures!
7:7This thy stature is like a palme tree, and thy brestes like clusters.
7:8I saide, I will goe vp into the palme tree, I will take holde of her boughes: thy breastes shall nowe be like the clusters of the vine: and the sauour of thy nose like apples,
7:9And the roufe of thy mouth like good wine, which goeth straight to my welbeloued, and causeth the lippes of the ancient to speake.
7:10I am my welbeloueds, and his desire is toward mee.
7:11Come, my welbeloued, let vs go foorth into the fielde: let vs remaine in the villages.
7:12Let vs get vp early to the vines, let vs see if the vine florish, whether it hath budded the small grape, or whether the pomegranates florish: there will I giue thee my loue.
7:13The mandrakes haue giuen a smelll, and in our gates are all sweete things, new and olde: my welbeloued, I haue kept them for thee.

 

7:1O how pleasaunt are thy treadynges with the shoes, thou princes daughter? Thy thighes are like a fayre iewell, which is wrought by a connyng worcke master.
7:2Thy nauell is lyke a rounde goblet, which is neuer without drinke. Thy wombe is lyke a hepe of wheat that is sett aboute wt roses
7:3Thy two brestes are lyke two twyns of yonge roes.
7:4Thy neck is as it were a tower of yuery: thine eyes also are lyke the water poles that are in Hesebon, besyde the porte of Bathrabbim: thy nose is lyke the tower of Libanus, which loketh toward Damascus.
7:5That head that standeth vpon the, is lyke Carmel & the hearre of thy heade is lyke purple and lyke a kynge goynge forth wt his garde aboute hym.
7:6O how fayre & louely art thou my dearlynge, in pleasures?
7:7Thy stature is lyke a Palme tree & thy brestes lyke the grapes.
7:8I sayde I will clyme vp into the Palme tree, & take holde of his hye braunches. Thy brestes also shalbe as the vyne clustres the smell of thy nostrels lyke is the smell of apples,
7:9and thy iawes lyke the beste wyne. Whiche goeth strayte vnto my beloued and brusteth forth by the lyppes of the Auncyent eldres.
7:10There wyl I turne me vnto my loue & he shall turne hym vnto me.
7:11O come on my loue, we will go forth into the felde, & take oure lodgynge in the villages.
7:12In the mornynge wyll we go se the vyneyarde: we will se yf the vyne be spronge forth, yf the grapes be growne, and yf the pomgranates be shot out. There will I geue the my brestes:
7:13the Mandragoras geue theyr sweate smell: and besyde oure dores are all maner of pleasaunt frutes: both newe, & olde: whych I haue kepte for the, o my beloued.

 


The King James Version 2016 Edition is copyright © 2016 by Textus Receptus PTY. LTD.
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Green's Literal Translation (LITV). Copyright 1993 by Jay P. Green Sr.
All rights reserved. Jay P. Green Sr., Lafayette, IN. U.S.A. 47903.
Permission to non-commercially distribute freely