Joseph Friedlander, comp. The Standard Book of Jewish Verse. 1917.
By Horatius BonarThe Chief Among Ten Thousand
B
Thine eyes, thy locks, thy brow
All excellence and comeliness—
How beautiful art thou!
With splendor overspread;
Whereon a thousand bucklers hang,
Shields of the mighty dead.
Myself betake I will
To the spice-mountain’s fragrant heights,
And incense-breathing hill.
There is no spot in thee;
Come then, my bride, from Lebanon,
From Lebanon with me!
While I am by thy side;
Look from the top of Shinar, look
From Hermon, look, my bride!
Ravished this heart of mine!
Won it thou hast, and now it is
No longer mine, but thine!
How better far than mine!
Thy fragrance steals my heart; it is
No longer mine, but thine!
Are pleasantness each one;
Thy very raiment breatheth forth
The breath of Lebanon.
A paradise shut in;
A guardian spring, a fountain sealed,
With water pure within.
Beneath, around, above;
Spikenard and balm, and myrrh and spice,
A paradise of love.
A thousand gardens run,
The well of living waters Thou,
And streams from Lebanon.
Upon my garden blow!
So shall the happy fragrance out
From all its spices flow.
Let my beloved rove,
To breathe the gladness of its air
And eat His fruits of love.