PART III.

The Bridegroom .

A little sister, fair and young,
Does to our family belong:
Her breasts appear not yet, 'tis true;
What shall we for our sister do,
When she begins to get a name,
When growing beauties spread her fame?
If, by the firmness of her mind,
She seems a wall, for strength design'd;
A palace on that wall we'll found,
Glittering with silver all around:
If like a gate, built to defend
From foes, and to admit a friend;
With cedar boards we'll fence her well,

PART II.

The Daughters of Jerusalem .

Who's this that from the desart moves,
Leaning upon the arm she loves?

The B RIDEGROOM .

At first, my love, I rais'd up thee
Under the fruitful apple-tree;
There many a pang, and many a throw
Did thy fair mother undergo;
But after many pangs and throws,
Did her blest fruit at last disclose.

The B RIDE .

O let my name be deep imprest,
Like a fair signet, on thy breast!

CHAP. VIII.

PART I.

O How I wish, that thou, my love,
Wouldst to me as a brother prove!
Fed by those breasts, born on that knee,
Which suckled and supported me.
With how much joy I should thee meet,
Or in the field, or in the street!
There I'd embrace thee, there I'd kiss;
Nor should I be despis'd for this.
How gladly would I lead thee home!
Wither thou wouldst as gladly come,
To my dear mother's pleasant seat,
Where thou shouldst many welcomes meet.

PART II.

Thou lov'd, and lovely one; how fair,
How charming all thy features are!
How they inspire refin'd delight!
Thy stature's like the palm upright:
Thy breasts like clusters of the vine,
When ripe, and full of generous wine.
The stately palm I'll climb, said I,
I'll reach its fruitful boughs on high;
Thy breasts, like clusters of the vine,
Shall now abound with generous wine.
Thy nostrils breathe a fragrant air,
Like apples, sweet as they are fair.
Thy mouth, the seat of eloquence,

CHAP. VII.

PART I.

I N thee, O Prince's daughter, meet,
Numberless charms from head to feet!
Those feet become the shoes they wear,
Become the lovely weight they bear;
Two beauteous pillars they sustain,
Whose joints the finest work contain;
Like precious gems, more precious still
When cut and set with wondrous skill.
Thy navel's like a goblet round,
Which does with vital juice abound:
Thy belly promises a race,
Heirs to thy honour, and thy grace.

PART III.

The Bridegroom .

To the nut-garden I went down,
To see what fruits the valley crown;
To see how well the vines were grown,
How the pomegranate-trees were blown.
Surpriz'd I know not how, I find
Fervent desires transport my mind;
And raptures wing my wondrous soul,
That nothing can my speed controul:
So volunteers in chariots fly,
Resolv'd to overcome or die.
Return, return, O Shulamite,
Thy presence will rejoice our sight:
Return, return, what shall we see,

PART II.

Not all the train of threescore queens,
And fourscore beauteous concubines,
Innumerable virgins too,
May e'er compare, my love, with you.
My only dove, my spotless one
Transcends 'em all herself alone;
The only one her mother bare,
Her mother's tender joy and care.
The virgins saw her, and confest
None with such beauty e'er was blest:
The queens and concubines admir'd,
And in her praises all conspir'd.

The Daughters of Jerusalem .

Who's this so cheerful and so bright,

CHAP. VI.

PART I.

The Daughters of Jerusalem .

O Thou, who hast more charms ingrost,
Than all our sex beside can boast!
Whither is thy beloved gone?
Tell, whither is thy love withdrawn?
Which way he turn'd let us but know,
We'll all to seek him with thee go.

The B RIDE .

To's garden he's gone to retire,
Where beds of spice their sweets expire.
To's gardens, where he feeds, and where
He gathers lillies sweet and fair.

PART III.

The Daughters of Jerusalem .

O thou, who hast more charms ingrost,
Than all our sex beside can boast!
What charms in thy beloved dwell,
To make him other loves excel!
Describe his beauties, let us know,
Fair one, why thou adjur'st us so?

The B RIDE .

In my love's cheeks, pure white and red
In just degrees their mixture spread.
Under his standard marshal'd are
Ten thousand youths, but none so fair.
His head with finest gold is crown'd,

PART II.

The Bride .

I laid me down my rest to take;
I slept, yet was my heart awake:
A voice salutes my waking ear,
One knocking at the door I hear.
My love, it seems, was pleas'd to wait,
Calling and knocking at the gate:
" My sister, loud he cry'd, my love,
" My fair, my chast, my spotless dove;
" Be kind, as I to you have been,
" Unlock the door, and let me in:
" With trickling dew my head is fill'd,
" My locks with drops by night distill'd.
My garments I have laid aside,