Song of Songs 5
Christ awaketh the Church with his calling.
Song of Songs 5:1 Come in to my garden o my sister, my spouse: I haue gathered my Myrre wt my spyce. I wil eate my hony and my hony cobe, I wil drynke my wyne & my mylk Eate o (ye frendes) drynke and be mery, o ye beloued.
The Church having a taste of Christ's love is sick of love.
Song of Songs 5:2 As I was a slepe, & my hert wakynge, I herde the voyce of my beloued, wha he knocked. Open to me (sayde he) o my sister, my loue, my doue, my derlinge: for my heade is full of dew, and ye lockes of my hayre are full of the night droppes. Song of Songs 5:3 I haue put off my cote, how ca I do it on agayne? I haue washed my fete, how shal I fyle them agayne? Song of Songs 5:4 But whan my loue put in his hande at the hole, my hert was moued towarde him: Song of Songs 5:5 so that I stode vp to open vnto my beloued. My hades dropped wt Myrre, & the Myrre ranne downe my fyngers vpon ye lock. Song of Songs 5:6 Neuerthelesse wha I had opened vnto my beloued, he was departed, and gone his waye. Now like as afore tyme whan he spake, my hert coude no longer refrayne: Euen so now I sought hi, but I coude not fynde him: I cried vpon him, neuerthelesse he gaue me no answere. Song of Songs 5:7 So the watchmen that wente aboute the cite, foude me, smote me, and wounded me: Yee they that kepte the walles, toke awaye my garmet fro me. Song of Songs 5:8 I charge you therfore (o ye doughters of Ierusalem) yf ye fynde my beloued, that ye tell him, how that I am sick for loue.
A description of Christ by his graces.
Song of Songs 5:9 Who is thy loue aboue other louers, O thou fayrest amonge wemen? Or, what can thy loue do, more then other louers, that thou chargest vs so straitly? Song of Songs 5:10 As for my loue, he is whyte and reade coloured, a synguler personne amonge many thousandes: Song of Songs 5:11 his heade is the most fyne golde, the lockes of his hayre are busshed, browne as the euenynge: Song of Songs 5:12 His eyes are as the eyes of doues by the water brokes, washen with mylck, and remaynynge in a plenteous place: Song of Songs 5:13 His chekes are like a garden bedd, where in the Apotecaryes plate all maner of swete thinges: His lippes droppe as the floures of the most pryncipall Myrre, Song of Songs 5:14 his hades are full of golde rynges and precious stones. His body is as the pure yuery, decte ouer with Saphyres: Song of Songs 5:15 His legges are as the pilers of Marbell, sett vpon sokettes of golde: His face is as Libanus, and as the bewty of the Cedre trees: Song of Songs 5:16 His throte is swete, yee he is alltogether louely. Soch one is my loue (o ye doughters of Ierusalem) soch one is my loue.