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Song of Solomon - Chapter: 7

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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.

 

7:1Douytir of the prince, thi goyngis ben ful faire in schoon; the ioyncturis of thi heppis ben as brochis, that ben maad bi the hond of a crafti man.
7:2Thi nawle is as a round cuppe, and wel formed, that hath neuere nede to drynkis; thi wombe is as an heep of whete, biset aboute with lilies.
7:3Thi twei teetis ben as twei kidis, twynnes of a capret.
7:4Thi necke is as a tour of yuer; thin iyen ben as cisternes in Esebon, that ben in the yate of the douyter of multitude; thi nose is as the tour of Liban, that biholdith ayens Damask.
7:5Thin heed is as Carmele; and the heeres of thin heed ben as the kyngis purpur, ioyned to trowyis.
7:6Dereworthe spousesse, thou art ful fair, and ful schappli in delices.
7:7Thi stature is licned to a palm tree, and thi tetis to clustris of grapis.
7:8I seide, Y schal stie in to a palm tree, and Y schal take the fruytis therof. And thi tetis schulen be as the clustris of grapis of a vyner; and the odour of thi mouth as the odour of pumgranatis;
7:9thi throte schal be as beste wyn. Worthi to my derlyng for to drynke, and to hise lippis and teeth to chewe.
7:10Y schal cleue by loue to my derlyng, and his turnyng schal be to me.
7:11Come thou, my derlyng, go we out in to the feeld; dwelle we togidere in townes.
7:12Ryse we eerli to the vyner; se we, if the vyner hath flourid, if the flouris bryngen forth fruytis, if pumgranatis han flourid; there I schal yyue to thee my tetis.
7:13Mandrogoris han youe her odour in oure yatis; my derlyng, Y haue kept to thee alle applis, new and elde.

 

7:1O how pleasaunt are thy treadinges with thy shues, thou prynces daughter? Thy thees are like a fayre iewell, which is wrought by a connynge workmaster:
7:2Thy nauell is like a rounde goblett, which is neuer without drynke: Thy wombe is like an heape of wheate, sett aboute with lilies:
7:3Thy two brestes are like two twyns of yonge roes:
7:4Thy neck is as it were a tower of yuery: Thyne eyes are like ye water poles in Hesebon, besyde the porte of Bathrabbim: Thy nose is like the tower of Libanus, which loketh towarde Damascus:
7:5That heade that stondeth vpon the is like Carmel: The hayre of thy heade is like the kynges purple folden vp in plates.
7:6O how fayre and louely art thou (my derlynge) in pleasures?
7:7Thy stature is like a date tre, and thy brestes like the grapes. I sayde:
7:8I wil clymme vp into the date tre, and take holde of his braunches. Thy brestes also shalbe as the vyne grapes, the smell of thy nostrels like the smell of apples,
7:9and thy throte like the best wyne. This shalbe pure & cleare for my loue, his lippes and teth shal haue their pleasure.
7:10There wil I turne me vnto my loue, and he shal turne him vnto me.
7:11O come on my loue, let vs go forth in to the felde, and take oure lodginge in the vyllages.
7:12In the mornynge wil we ryse by tymes, and go se the vynyarde: yf it be spronge forth, yf the grapes be growne, & yf the pomgranates be shott out. There wil I geue the my brestes:
7:13There shal the Mandragoras geue their smell besyde oure dores: There (o my loue) haue I kepte vnto the all maner of frutes, both new and olde.

 


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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