Daily Wisdom Plan

¹Upon my bed at night I sought him whom my soul loves; I sought him, but found him not; I called him, but he gave no answer.

²“I will rise now and go about the city, in the streets and in the squares; I will seek him whom my soul loves.” I sought him, but found him not.

³The sentinels found me, as they went about in the city. “Have you seen him whom my soul loves?”

⁴Scarcely had I passed them, when I found him whom my soul loves. I held him, and would not let him go until I brought him into my mother’s house, and into the chamber of her that conceived me.

⁵I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, by the gazelles or the wild does: do not stir up or awaken love until it is ready!

⁶What is that coming up from the wilderness, like a column of smoke, perfumed with myrrh and frankincense, with all the fragrant powders of the merchant?

⁷Look, it is the litter of Solomon! Around it are sixty mighty men of the mighty men of Israel,

⁸all equipped with swords and expert in war, each with his sword at his thigh because of alarms by night.

⁹King Solomon made himself a palanquin from the wood of Lebanon.

¹⁰He made its posts of silver, its back of gold, its seat of purple; its interior was inlaid with love. Daughters of Jerusalem,

¹¹come out. Look, O daughters of Zion, at King Solomon, at the crown with which his mother crowned him on the day of his wedding, on the day of the gladness of his heart.

¹How beautiful you are, my love, how very beautiful! Your eyes are doves behind your veil. Your hair is like a flock of goats, moving down the slopes of Gilead.

²Your teeth are like a flock of shorn ewes that have come up from the washing, all of which bear twins, and not one among them is bereaved.

³Your lips are like a crimson thread, and your mouth is lovely. Your cheeks are like halves of a pomegranate behind your veil.

⁴Your neck is like the tower of David, built in courses; on it hang a thousand bucklers, all of them shields of warriors.

⁵Your two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle, that feed among the lilies.

⁶Until the day breathes and the shadows flee, I will hasten to the mountain of myrrh and the hill of frankincense.

⁷You are altogether beautiful, my love; there is no flaw in you.

⁸Come with me from Lebanon, my bride; come with me from Lebanon. Depart from the peak of Amana, from the peak of Senir and Hermon, from the dens of lions, from the mountains of leopards.

⁹You have ravished my heart, my sister, my bride, you have ravished my heart with a glance of your eyes, with one jewel of your necklace.

¹⁰How sweet is your love, my sister, my bride! how much better is your love than wine, and the fragrance of your oils than any spice!

¹¹Your lips distill nectar, my bride; honey and milk are under your tongue; the scent of your garments is like the scent of Lebanon.

¹²A garden locked is my sister, my bride, a garden locked, a fountain sealed.

¹³Your channel is an orchard of pomegranates with all choicest fruits, henna with nard,

¹⁴nard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon, with all trees of frankincense, myrrh and aloes, with all chief spices —

¹⁵a garden fountain, a well of living water, and flowing streams from Lebanon.

¹⁶Awake, O north wind, and come, O south wind! Blow upon my garden that its fragrance may be wafted abroad. Let my beloved come to his garden, and eat its choicest fruits.

¹I come to my garden, my sister, my bride; I gather my myrrh with my spice, I eat my honeycomb with my honey, I drink my wine with my milk. Eat, friends, drink, and be drunk with love.

²I slept, but my heart was awake. Listen! my beloved is knocking. “Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my perfect one; for my head is wet with dew, my locks with the drops of the night.”

³I had put off my garment; how could I put it on again? I had bathed my feet; how could I soil them?

⁴My beloved thrust his hand into the opening, and my inmost being yearned for him.

⁵I arose to open to my beloved, and my hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with liquid myrrh, upon the handles of the bolt.

⁶I opened to my beloved, but my beloved had turned and was gone. My soul failed me when he spoke. I sought him, but did not find him; I called him, but he gave no answer.

⁷Making their rounds in the city the sentinels found me; they beat me, they wounded me, they took away my mantle, those sentinels of the walls.

⁸I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if you find my beloved, tell him this: I am faint with love.

⁹What is your beloved more than another beloved, O fairest among women? What is your beloved more than another beloved, that you thus adjure us?

¹⁰My beloved is all radiant and ruddy, distinguished among ten thousand.

¹¹His head is the finest gold; his locks are wavy, black as a raven.

¹²His eyes are like doves beside springs of water, bathed in milk, fitly set.

¹³His cheeks are like beds of spices, yielding fragrance. His lips are lilies, distilling liquid myrrh.

¹⁴His arms are rounded gold, set with jewels. His body is ivory work, encrusted with sapphires.

¹⁵His legs are alabaster columns, set upon bases of gold. His appearance is like Lebanon, choice as the cedars.

¹⁶His speech is most sweet, and he is altogether desirable. This is my beloved and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.