I am the rose of the fielde, and lillie of the valleys,
As the lillie among the thornes: so is my loue among the daughters.
Like as the apple tree among the trees of the wood: so is my beloued among the sonnes.
My delight is to sit vnder his shadowe, for his fruite is sweete vnto my throte.
He bringeth me into his wine seller, his banner spread ouer me, whiche is his loue.
Set about me cuppes of wine, comfort me with apples, for I am sicke of loue.
His left hande lyeth vnder my head, and his right hande shall imbrace me.
I charge you (O ye daughters of Hierusalem) by the roes and hindes of the fiede, that ye wake not vp my loue, nor touche her, tyll she be content her selfe.
Me thinke I heare the voyce of my beloued: lo, there commeth he hopping vpon the mountaines, and leaping ouer the litle hilles.
My beloued is lyke a roe or a young hart: beholde he standeth behinde our wall, he looketh in at the windowe, and peepeth thorowe the grace.
My beloued aunswered and sayd vnto me: O stande vp my loue, my beautifull, and go to thyne owne: for lo the winter is nowe past, the rayne is away and gone.
The flowres are come vp in the field, the tyme of the byrdes singing is come, and the voyce of the turtle doue is hearde in our lande.
The figge tree bryngeth foorth her figges, and the vines beare blossomes and haue a good smell.
O stande vp then and come my loue my beautifull, [and come I say] O my doue, out of the caues of the rockes, out of the holes of the wall, O let me see thy countenaunce and heare thy voyce: for sweete is thy voyce, and fayre is thy face.
Get vs the foxes, yea the litle foxes that hurt the vines: for our vines beare blossomes.
My loue is mine, & I am his, whiche feedeth among the lillies vntill the day breake, and till the shadowes be gone:
Come agayne O my beloued, and be lyke as a roe or a young hart vpon the wyde mountaines.