The Works of the Reverend Richard Sibbs ...: To which is Prefixed, a Short Memoir of the Author's Life. ...

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J. Chalmers & Company, 1809

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Page 81 - I sleep, but my heart waketh: it is the voice of my beloved that knocketh, saying: Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled: for my head is filled with dew, and my locks with the drops of the night.
Page 174 - The watchmen that went about the city found me, They smote me, they wounded me; The keepers of the walls took away my veil from me.
Page 344 - But now, O Lord, thou art our father; we are the clay, and thou our potter; and we all are the work of thy hand.
Page 40 - I am come into my garden, my sister, my spouse: I have gathered my myrrh with my spice; I have eaten my honeycomb with my honey; I have drunk my wine with my milk: Eat, O friends; Drink, yea, drink abundantly, O beloved.
Page 193 - What is thy beloved more than another beloved, O thou fairest among women? What is thy beloved more than another beloved, that thou dost so charge us?
Page 344 - But we are all as an unclean thing, and all our righteousnesses are as filthy rags; and we all do fade as a leaf; and our iniquities, like the wind, have taken us away.
Page 158 - I opened to my beloved; but my beloved had withdrawn himself, and was gone. My soul failed when he spake: I sought him, but I could not find him ; I called him, but he gave me no answer.
Page 212 - My beloved is white and ruddy, The chiefest among ten thousand. His head is as the most fine gold, His locks are bushy, and black as a raven.
Page 4 - Awake, O north wind; and come, thou south; blow upon my garden, that the spices thereof may flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden, and eat his pleasant fruits.
Page 151 - My beloved put in his hand by the hole of the door, and my bowels were moved for him.

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