A   O how pleasaunt are thy treadynges with the shoes, thou princes daughter? Thy thighes are like a fayre iewell, which is wrought by a connyng worcke master. Thy nauell is lyke a ro&ubar;de goblet, which is neuer without drinke. Thy w&obar;be is lyke a hepe of wheat that is sett aboute &wt; roses

^noteThy two brestes are lyke two twyns of yonge roes. B   Thy neck is as it were a tower of yuery: thine eyes also are lyke the water poles þt; are in Heseb&obar;, besyde þe; porte of Bathrabbim: thy nose is lyke the tower of Libanus, which loketh toward Damascus. That head þt; standeth vp&obar; the, is lyke Carmel ∧ the hearre of thy heade is lyke purple and lyke a kynge goynge forth &wt; his garde aboute hym. O how fayre ∧ louely art þu; my dearlynge, &ibar; pleasures? Thy stature is lyke a Palme tree ∧ thy brestes lyke the grapes. I sayde I will clyme vp &ibar;to þe; Palme tree, ∧ take holde of his hye bra&ubar;ches. C   Thy brestes also shalbe as þe; vyne clustres þe; smell of thy nostrels lyke is the smell of

apples, and thy iawes lyke the beste wyne. Whiche goeth strayte vnto my beloued and brusteth forth by þe; lyppes of the Auncyent eldres. There wyl I turne me vnto my loue ∧ he shall turne hym vnto me. O come on my loue, we will go forth into the felde, ∧ take oure lodgynge in the villages. E   In the mornynge wyll we go se þe; vyneyarde: we will se yf the vyne be spr&obar;ge forth, yf the grapes be growne, and yf the p&obar;granates be shot out. There will I geue þe; my brestes: þe; Mandragoras geue theyr sweate smell: and besyde oure dores are all maner of pleasaunt frutes: both newe, ∧ olde: whych I haue kepte for the, o my beloued.

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