Image
Learn, grow and be challenged as you hear from God’s word through these Bible talks. Find here our archive collated using Sermon Browser.

Earlier: Same day: Later:
« SUMMER 4 - Mark, the Man - Why have You Forsaken Me? The Climax and Goal The Climax of a Love Song »

The Pain of a Love Song (Song of Solomon 3:1-5:8)

Paul Dudley, February 1, 2004
Part of the HTD Song of Solomon 2004 series, preached at a Morning Service

Tags:




Song of Solomon 3–5:8 (Listen)

3:1   On my bed by night
  I sought him whom my soul loves;
    I sought him, but found him not.
  I will rise now and go about the city,
    in the streets and in the squares;
  I will seek him whom my soul loves.
    I sought him, but found him not.
  The watchmen found me
    as they went about in the city.
  “Have you seen him whom my soul loves?”
  Scarcely had I passed them
    when I found him whom my soul loves.
  I held him, and would not let him go
    until I had brought him into my mother’s house,
    and into the chamber of her who conceived me.
  I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem,
    by the gazelles or the does of the field,
  that you not stir up or awaken love
    until it pleases.

  What is that coming up from the wilderness
    like columns of smoke,
  perfumed with myrrh and frankincense,
    with all the fragrant powders of a merchant?
  Behold, it is the litter of Solomon!
  Around it are sixty mighty men,
    some of the mighty men of Israel,
  all of them wearing swords
    and expert in war,
  each with his sword at his thigh,
    against terror by night.
  King Solomon made himself a carriage
    from the wood of Lebanon.
10   He made its posts of silver,
    its back of gold, its seat of purple;
  its interior was inlaid with love
    by the daughters of Jerusalem.
11   Go out, O daughters of Zion,
    and look upon King Solomon,
  with the crown with which his mother crowned him
    on the day of his wedding,
    on the day of the gladness of his heart.

He

4:1   Behold, you are beautiful, my love,
    behold, you are beautiful!
  Your eyes are doves
    behind your veil.
  Your hair is like a flock of goats
    leaping down the slopes of Gilead.
  Your teeth are like a flock of shorn ewes
    that have come up from the washing,
  all of which bear twins,
    and not one among them has lost its young.
  Your lips are like a scarlet thread,
    and your mouth is lovely.
  Your cheeks are like halves of a pomegranate
    behind your veil.
  Your neck is like the tower of David,
    built in rows of stone;
  on it hang a thousand shields,
    all of them shields of warriors.
  Your two breasts are like two fawns,
    twins of a gazelle,
    that graze among the lilies.
  Until the day breathes
    and the shadows flee,
  I will go away to the mountain of myrrh
    and the hill of frankincense.
  You are altogether beautiful, my love;
    there is no flaw in you.
  Come with me from Lebanon, my bride;
    come with me from Lebanon.
  Depart from the peak of Amana,
    from the peak of Senir and Hermon,
  from the dens of lions,
    from the mountains of leopards.
  You have captivated my heart, my sister, my bride;
    you have captivated my heart with one glance of your eyes,
    with one jewel of your necklace.
10   How beautiful is your love, my sister, my bride!
    How much better is your love than wine,
    and the fragrance of your oils than any spice!
11   Your lips drip nectar, my bride;
    honey and milk are under your tongue;
    the fragrance of your garments is like the fragrance of Lebanon.
12   A garden locked is my sister, my bride,
    a spring locked, a fountain sealed.
13   Your shoots are an orchard of pomegranates
    with all choicest fruits,
    henna with nard,
14   nard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon,
    with all trees of frankincense,
  myrrh and aloes,
    with all choice spices—
15   a garden fountain, a well of living water,
    and flowing streams from Lebanon.
16   Awake, O north wind,
    and come, O south wind!
  Blow upon my garden,
    let its spices flow.

She

  Let my beloved come to his garden,
    and eat its choicest fruits.

He

5:1   I came to my garden, my sister, my bride,
    I gathered my myrrh with my spice,
    I ate my honeycomb with my honey,
    I drank my wine with my milk.

Others

  Eat, friends, drink,
    and be drunk with love!

She

  I slept, but my heart was awake.
  A sound! My beloved is knocking.
  “Open to me, my sister, my love,
    my dove, my perfect one,
  for my head is wet with dew,
    my locks with the drops of the night.”
  I had put off my garment;
    how could I put it on?
  I had bathed my feet;
    how could I soil them?
  My beloved put his hand to the latch,
    and my heart was thrilled within me.
  I arose to open to my beloved,
    and my hands dripped with myrrh,
  my fingers with liquid myrrh,
    on the handles of the bolt.
  I opened to my beloved,
    but my beloved had turned and gone.
  My soul failed me when he spoke.
  I sought him, but found him not;
    I called him, but he gave no answer.
  The watchmen found me
    as they went about in the city;
  they beat me, they bruised me,
    they took away my veil,
    those watchmen of the walls.
  I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem,
    if you find my beloved,
  that you tell him
    I am sick with love.

(ESV)

Powered by Sermon Browser