My Love by Adam Wamack

My Love

Theme derived from Song of Solomon, Chapter 2

by Adam Wamack

Just as the Sharon rose: I am;

Lilies of the valley: 'tis I.

The lily among thorns does stand.

So is the love from there my eye.

As much just as the apple tree

Strung from among the trees ofwood,

There shall my beloved one be:

Among the many ones so good.

Beneath her shadow I did sit

Being filled up with great delight.

And of the fruit that I did get

Did taste the sweetest of my life.

Then she did take and bringme to

The banqueting hall from above.

Yet look I did at her and knew

Her banner over me was love.

O stay me with the flagon's skin;

O let my weary soul to rest.

Comfort me with apples and kin.

How sick from love I do attest.

Her left hand is under my head,

And her right hand doth embrace me.

I charge to you:"Do act as dead

Jerusalem's daughters I see."

So to all those who're by the roes,

And by the hinds of the field

I charge you: "Stir not up for show

Nor wakemy love till sleep doth yield."

O hear the voice of my beloved.

She cometh leaping on the mount.

Her music heard comes from above

As she skips hills the more to count.

My beloved is like a roe

Or like as unto a young hart.

To which ever way she should go,

I wish to be at least a part.

Behold: she standeth near our wall.

Through the window she doth look forth

Showing through the lattice to all,

Yet far as South is from the North.

My beloved turned and did speak,

"Rise up my love," she said to me.

With love she spoke,my heart was weak.

"My fair one come away," I plea.

"For lo, the winter long has past;

The snow shall no more lay the ground.

The rain is over all at last.

We need no ever hear its sound.

"The flowers appear on the Earth.

The time of singing birds is come.

The voice of the turtle is heard.

Our land is free, free as the sun.

"The fig tree putteth forth from her,

And also grapes the vine does bear.

The figs still green, grapes yet tender;

So sweet the smell put forth from there.

"Arise my love, hair golden lock.

My fair one, let's away to there.

My dove that art in clefts of rock.

In secret places of the stairs.

"Parade to me thy countenance.

Let music flow forth from thy voice.

How comely is the spark there hence,

And sweet the songs sung there thy choice.

"Take us the foxes, foxes small.

That come and spoil all the vines.

For they have come; they've heard our call.

So tender are the grapes our kind."

My beloved is only mine.

She feeds among where lihes grow.

To her I say: "Yes, I am thine."

We are together we do know.

Until the break ofday has come,

And shadows have all fled away.

O turn,my love, vict'ry is won.

Thou art mine...yours am I today.