Draw me away!

The Daughters of Jerusalem

We will run after you.

The Shulamite

The king has brought me into his chambers.

The Daughters of Jerusalem

We will be glad and rejoice in you. We will remember your love more than wine.

The Shulamite

Rightly do they love you.

The Shulamite

While the king is at his table, My spikenard sends forth its fragrance.

Of the wood of Lebanon Solomon the King Made himself a palanquin:

Go forth, O daughters of Zion, And see King Solomon with the crown With which his mother crowned him On the day of his wedding, The day of the gladness of his heart.

Your head crowns you like Mount Carmel, And the hair of your head is like purple; A king is held captive by your tresses.