Song of Songs 4
Christ setteth forth the graces of the Church.
Song of Songs 4:1 O howe fayre art thou my loue, howe fayre art thou? thou hast doues eyes, beside that which lyeth hid within: Thy heerie lockes are lyke the wooll of a flocke of goates that be shorne vpon mount Gilead. Song of Songs 4:2 Thy teeth are like a flocke [of sheepe] of the same bignesse whiche went vp from the washing place, where euery one beareth two twinnes, and not one vnfruitfull among them. Song of Songs 4:3 Thy lippes are lyke a rose coloured ribande, thy wordes are louely, thy cheekes are like a peece of a pomegranate within thyne heeres. Song of Songs 4:4 Thy necke is like the towre of Dauid buylded with costly stones, lying out on the sides wherevpon there hange a thousande shieldes: yea all the weapons of the giauntes. Song of Songs 4:5 Thy two breastes are lyke two twinnes of young Roes, whiche feede among roses. Song of Songs 4:6 O that I might go to the mountaine of myrre, and to the hil of frankencense, til the day breake, and til the shadowes be past away. Song of Songs 4:7 Thou art all fayre (O my loue) and no spot is there in thee.
He sheweth his love to her.
Song of Songs 4:8 Come to me from Libanus (O my spouse) come to me from Libanus: looke from the top of Amana, from the top of Sanir and Hermon, from the lions dennes, and from the mountaines of the leopardes. Song of Songs 4:9 Thou hast [with loue] bewitched my heart O my sister my spouse, thou hast bewitched my heart with one of thyne eyes, and with one chayne of thy necke. Song of Songs 4:10 O howe fayre are thy breastes, my sister, my spouse? Thy breastes are more pleasaunt then wine, and the smell of thyne oyntmentes passeth all spices. Song of Songs 4:11 Thy lippes, O my spouse, drop as the hony combe, yea mylke and hony is vnder thy tongue, and the smell of thy garmentes is like the smell of Libanus. Song of Songs 4:12 A garden well locked is my sister, my spouse: a garden well locked, and a sealed well. Song of Songs 4:13 The fruites that are planted in thee, are lyke a very paradise of pomegranates with sweete fruites, as Camphire, Nardus, Song of Songs 4:14 & Saffron, Calamus, Sinamom, with all sweete smellyng trees, Myrre, Aloes, and all the best spyces, Song of Songs 4:15 a well of gardens, a well of liuing waters which runne downe from Libanus.
The Church prayeth to be made fit for his presence.
Song of Songs 4:16 Up thou north winde, come thou south winde and blowe vpon my garden, that the smell therof may be caryed on euery side: yea that my beloued may come into his garden, and eate of the sweete fruites [that growe therein.]