Song Of Solomon 5:2-1953 kjv — I sleep, but my heart waketh: it is the voice of my beloved that knocketh, saying, Open to me, my sister, my love, my d…

“ I was asleep, but my heart waked: It is the voice of my beloved that knocketh, saying, Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled; For my head is filled with dew, My locks with the drops of the night. I have put off my garment; how shall I put it on? I have washed my feet; how shall I defile them? My beloved put in his hand by the holeof the door, And my heart was moved for him. I rose up to open to my beloved; And my hands dropped with myrrh, And my fingers with liquid myrrh, Upon the handles of the bolt. I opened to my beloved; But my beloved had withdrawn himself, and was gone. My soul had failed me when he spake: I sought him, but I could not find him; I called him, but he gave me no answer. The watchmen that go about the city found me, They smote me, they wounded me; The keepers of the walls took away my mantle from me. I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, If ye find my beloved, That ye tell him, that I am sick from love. What is thy beloved more than another beloved, O thou fairest among women? What is thy beloved more than another beloved, That thou dost so adjure us? My beloved is white and ruddy, The chiefest among ten thousand. His head isasthe most fine gold; His locks are bushy, and black as a raven. His eyes are like doves beside the water-brooks, Washed with milk, and fitly set. His cheeks are as a bed of spices, Asbanks of sweet herbs: His lips are as lilies, dropping liquid myrrh. His hands areasrings of gold set with beryl: His body isasivory work overlaid with sapphires. His legs areaspillars of marble, set upon sockets of fine gold: His aspect is like Lebanon, excellent as the cedars. His mouth is most sweet; Yea, he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem. ”

“I was asleep, but my heart was awake. It is the voice of my beloved who knocks: "Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled; for my head is filled with dew, and my hair with the dampness of the night." I have taken off my robe. Indeed, must I put it on? I have washed my feet. Indeed, must I soil them? My beloved thrust his hand in through the latch opening. My heart pounded for him. I rose up to open for my beloved. My hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with liquid myrrh, on the handles of the lock. I opened to my beloved; but my beloved left; and had gone away. My heart went out when he spoke. I looked for him, but I didn't find him. I called him, but he didn't answer. The watchmen who go about the city found me. They beat me. They bruised me. The keepers of the walls took my cloak away from me. I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem, If you find my beloved, that you tell him that I am faint with love. Friends How is your beloved better than another beloved, you fairest among women? How is your beloved better than another beloved, that you do so adjure us? Beloved My beloved is white and ruddy. The best among ten thousand. His head is like the purest gold. His hair is bushy, black as a raven. His eyes are like doves beside the water brooks, washed with milk, mounted like jewels. His cheeks are like a bed of spices with towers of perfumes. His lips are like lilies, dropping liquid myrrh. His hands are like rings of gold set with beryl. His body is like ivory work overlaid with sapphires. His legs are like pillars of marble set on sockets of fine gold. His appearance is like Lebanon, excellent as the cedars. His mouth is sweetness; yes, he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, and this is my friend, daughters of Jerusalem. Friends”

“The Trials of Love: The Beloved’s Dream of Losing Her LoverThe Beloved about Her Lover: I was asleep, but my mind was dreaming. Listen! My lover is knocking at the door! The Lover to His Beloved:“Open for me, my sister, my darling, my dove, my flawless one! My head is drenched with dew, my hair with the dampness of the night.” The Beloved to Her Lover:“I have already taken off my robe– must I put it on again? I have already washed my feet– must I soil them again?” My lover thrust his hand through the hole, and my feelings were stirred for him. I arose to open for my beloved; my hands dripped with myrrh– my fingers flowed with myrrh on the handles of the lock. I opened for my beloved, but my lover had already turned and gone away. I fell into despair when he departed. I looked for him but did not find him; I called him but he did not answer me. The watchmen found me as they made their rounds in the city. They beat me, they bruised me; they took away my cloak, those watchmen on the walls! The Triumph of Love: The Beloved Praises Her LoverThe Beloved to the Maidens: I admonish you, O maidens of Jerusalem– If you find my beloved, what will you tell him? Tell him that I am lovesick! The Maidens to The Beloved: Why is your beloved better than others, O most beautiful of women? Why is your beloved better than others, that you would admonish us in this manner? The Beloved to the Maidens: My beloved is dazzling and ruddy; he stands out in comparison to all other men. His head is like the purest gold. His hair is curly– black like a raven. His eyes are like doves by streams of water, washed in milk, mounted like jewels. His cheeks are like garden beds full of balsam trees yielding perfume. His lips are like lilies dripping with drops of myrrh. His arms are like rods of gold set with chrysolite. His abdomen is like polished ivory inlaid with sapphires. His legs are like pillars of marble set on bases of pure gold. His appearance is like Lebanon, choice as its cedars. His mouth is very sweet; he is totally desirable. This is my beloved! This is my companion, O maidens of Jerusalem!”

“I sleep, and my heart watcheth: the voice of my beloved knocking: Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled: for my head is full of dew, and my locks of the drops of the nights. I have put off my garment, how shall I put it on? I have washed my feet, how shall I defile them? My beloved put his hand through the key hole, and my bowels were moved at his touch. I arose up to open to my beloved: my hands dropped with myrrh, and my fingers were full of the choicest myrrh. I opened the bolt of my door to my beloved: but he had turned aside, and was gone. My soul melted when he spoke: I sought him, and found him not: I called, and he did not answer me. The keepers that go about the city found me: they struck me: and wounded me: the keepers of the walls took away my veil from me. I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if you find my beloved, that you tell him that I languish with love. What manner of one is thy beloved of the beloved, O thou most beautiful among women? what manner of one is thy beloved of the beloved, that thou hast so adjured us? My beloved is white and ruddy, chosen out of thousands. His head is as the finest gold: his locks as branches of palm trees, black as a raven. His eyes as doves upon brooks of waters, which are washed with milk, and sit beside the plentiful streams. His cheeks are as beds of aromatical spices set by the perfumers. His lips are as lilies dropping choice myrrh. His hands are turned and as of gold, full of hyacinths. His belly as of ivory, set with sapphires. His legs as pillars of marble, that are set upon bases of gold. His form as of Libanus, excellent as the cedars. His throat most sweet, and he is all lovely: such is my beloved, and he is my friend, O ye daughters of Jerusalem. Whither is thy beloved gone, O thou most beautiful among women? whither is thy beloved turned aside, and we will seek him with thee? ”

“I am sleeping, but my heart is awake; it is the sound of my loved one at the door, saying, Be open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my very beautiful one; my head is wet with dew, and my hair with the drops of the night. I have put off my coat; how may I put it on? My feet are washed; how may I make them unclean? My loved one put his hand on the door, and my heart was moved for him. I got up to let my loved one in; and my hands were dropping with myrrh, and my fingers with liquid myrrh, on the lock of the door. I made the door open to my loved one; but my loved one had taken himself away, and was gone, my soul was feeble when his back was turned on me; I went after him, but I did not come near him; I said his name, but he gave me no answer. The keepers who go about the town overtook me; they gave me blows and wounds; the keepers of the walls took away my veil from me. I say to you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if you see my loved one, what will you say to him? That I am overcome with love. What is your loved one more than another, O fairest among women? What is your loved one more than another, that you say this to us? My loved one is white and red, the chief among ten thousand. His head is as the most delicate gold; his hair is thick, and black as a raven. His eyes are as the eyes of doves by the water streams, washed with milk, and rightly placed. His face is as beds of spices, giving out perfumes of every sort; his lips like lilies, dropping liquid myrrh. His hands are as rings of gold ornamented with beryl-stones; his body is as a smooth plate of ivory covered with sapphires. His legs are as pillars of stone on a base of delicate gold; his looks are as Lebanon, beautiful as the cedar-tree. His mouth is most sweet; yes, he is all beautiful. This is my loved one, and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.”

“I sleep, but my heart waketh: it is the voice of my beloved that knocketh, saying, Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled: for my head is filled with dew, and my locks with the drops of the night. I have put off my coat; how shall I put it on? I have washed my feet; how shall I defile them? My beloved put in his hand by the hole of the door, and my bowels were moved for him. I rose up to open to my beloved; and my hands dropped with myrrh, and my fingers with sweet smelling myrrh, upon the handles of the lock. I opened to my beloved; but my beloved had withdrawn himself, and was gone: my soul failed when he spake: I sought him, but I could not find him; I called him, but he gave me no answer. The watchmen that went about the city found me, they smote me, they wounded me; the keepers of the walls took away my veil from me. I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find my beloved, that ye tell him, that I am sick of love. What is thy beloved more than another beloved, O thou fairest among women? what is thy beloved more than another beloved, that thou dost so charge us? My beloved is white and ruddy, the chiefest among ten thousand. His head is as the most fine gold, his locks are bushy, and black as a raven. His eyes are as the eyes of doves by the rivers of waters, washed with milk, and fitly set. His cheeks are as a bed of spices, as sweet flowers: his lips like lilies, dropping sweet smelling myrrh. His hands are as gold rings set with the beryl: his belly is as bright ivory overlaid with sapphires. His legs are as pillars of marble, set upon sockets of fine gold: his countenance is as Lebanon, excellent as the cedars. His mouth is most sweet: yea, he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem. ”