The Rose of Sharon

Oh ! saw ye the Rose of the East
In the valley of Sharon that grows ?
Ye daughters of Judah, how blest
To breathe in the sweets of my Rose !
Come, tell me if yet she's at rest
In her couch, with the lilies inwove ?
Or if wantons the breeze with her breast ?

For my heart it is sick for my love,
I charge you, ye virgins unveiled,
That stray 'mong the pomegranate trees,
By the roes and the hinds of the field,
That ye wake not my love till she please !
" The garden with flowers is in blow,
And roses unnumbered are there ;
Then tell how thy love we shall know,
For the daughters of Zion are fair."

A bed of frankincense her cheek,
And wreath of sweet myrrh is her hand ;
Her eye the bright gem that they seek
By the rivers and streams of the land :
Her smile from the morning she wins ;
Her teeth are the lambs on the hill ;
Her breasts two young roes that are twins,
And feed in the valleys at will.

As the cedar that smiles o'er the wood ;
As the lily 'mid shrubs of the heath ;
As the tower of Damascus that stood
Overlooking the hamlets beneath :
As the moon that in glory you see
'Mid the stars and the planets above ;
Even so among women is she,
And my bosom is ravished with love !

Return with the evening star,
And our couch on Amana shall be ;
From Shinar and Hermon afar
Thou the mountains of leopards shalt see.

O Shulamite ! turn to thy rest,
Where the olive o'ershadows the land ;
As the roe of the desert make haste,
For the singing of birds is at hand !