SONG X. The second Canticle.
While that the King was at repast
[_]
Sing this as the ninth Song.
[1]
While that the King was at repast,
My Spicknard his perfumings cast;
And twixt my breasts repos'd my Deere:
My Loue, who is as sweet to mee,
As Myrrhe, or Camphire bundles bee,
Which at Engaddi Vineyards are.
2
Loe, thou art faire; loe, thou my Loue,
Art faire, and eyed like the Doue:
Thou faire, and pleasant art my Deare:
And loe, our bed with flowers is strow'd:
Our House is beam'd with Cædar wood;
And of the Firre our Rafters are.
3
I am the Rose that Sharon yeelds,
The Rose and Lilly of the Fields,
And flower of all the Dales below.
My Loue among the Daughters showes,
As when a sweet and beauteous Rose
Amid her bush of thornes doth grow.
4
Among the Sonnes, such is my Deare,
As doth an Apple-tree appeare,
Within a shrubbie Forrest plac't.
I sate me downe beneath his shade,
(Whereto a great desire I had)
And sweet his fruit was to my tast.
5
Mee to his Banquet-house he bare,
Eu'n where his wine prouisions are,
And there, his Loue my banner was.
With Flaggons, mee from fainting stay;
With Apples comfort me, I pray;
For, I am sicke of Loue (alas)
6
My head with his left-hand he staid:
His right-hand ouer mee he laid;
And by the Harts and Roes (said Hee)
You Daughters of Ierusalem,
Stirre not (for you I charge by them)
Nor, wake my Loue, till pleas'd she be.