Let Him Kiss Me With The Kisses Of His Mouth: For Thy Love Is Better Than Wine
Looke Not Upon Mee That I Am Blacke, Because The Sunne Hath Looked Upon Mee: My Mothers Children Were Angry With Mee; They Made Mee The Keeper Of The Vineyards, But Mine Owne Vineyard Have I Not Kept.
I Have Compared Thee, O My Love, To A Company Of Horses In Pharaoh’s Chariots.
Behold, Thou Art Faire, My Love: Behold,
The Voice Of My Beloved! Behold! He Cometh Leaping Upon The Mountains, Skipping Upon The Hills.
My Beloved Is Like A Roe, Or A Young Hart: Behold He Standeth Behind Our Wall, He Looked Forth At The Windowe, He Peereth Through The Lattisse.
Behold His Bed, Which Is Solomons: Therefore Valiant Men Are About It, Of The Valiant Of Israel
Thou Art All Faire, My Love, There Is No Spot In Thee.
I Am My Beloved, My Beloved Is Mine: He Feedth Among The Lilies
I Went Downe Into The Garden Of Nuts To See The Fruits Of The Valley, And To See Whether The Vine Flourished And The Pomegranats Budded
Returne, Teturne, O Shulamite: Returne, Returne, That We May Looke Upon Thee: That Will Yee See In The Shulamite: As It Were The Company Of Two Armies.