The Well-Pleasing Love

The Beloved

Song of Songs 4:1-16

1 Behold, you are fair, my love!
Behold, you are fair!
You have dove's eyes behind your veil.
Your hair is like a flock of goats,
Going down from Mount Gilead.

2 Your teeth are like a flock of shorn sheep
Which have come up from the washing,
Every one of which bears twins,
And none is barren among them.

3 Your lips are like a strand of scarlet,
And your mouth is lovely.
Your temples behind your veil
Are like a piece of pomegranate.

4 Your neck is like the tower of David,
Built for an armory,
On which hang a thousand bucklers,
All shields of mighty men.

5 Your two breasts are like two fawns,
Twins of a gazelle,
Which feed among the lilies.

6 Until the day breaks
And the shadows flee away,
I will go my way to the mountain of myrrh
And to the hill of frankincense.

7 You are all fair, my love,
And there is no spot in you.

8 Come with me from Lebanon, my spouse,
With me from Lebanon.
Look from the top of Amana,
From the top of Senir and Hermon,
From the lions' dens,
From the mountains of the leopards.

9 You have ravished my heart,
My sister, my spouse;
You have ravished my heart
With one look of your eyes,
With one link of your necklace.

10 How fair is your love,
My sister, my spouse!
How much better than wine is your love,
And the scent of your perfumes
Than all spices!

11 Your lips, O my spouse,
Drip as the honeycomb;
Honey and milk are under your tongue;
And the fragrance of your garments
Is like the fragrance of Lebanon.

12 A garden enclosed
Is my sister, my spouse,
A spring shut up,
A fountain sealed.

13 Your plants are an orchard of pomegranates
With pleasant fruits,
Fragrant henna with spikenard,

14 Spikenard and saffron,
Calamus and cinnamon,
With all trees of frankincense,
Myrrh and aloes,
With all the chief spices—

15 A fountain of gardens,
A well of living waters,
And streams from Lebanon.

The Shulamite

16 Awake, O north wind,
And come, O south!
Blow upon my garden,
That its spices may flow out.

Let my beloved come to his garden
And eat its pleasant fruits.

The beloved serenades his bride the Shulamite with these words of high praise and love just as our Beloved’s song over us is love.  He sees behind the veil to the eyes and calls them beautiful as a dove’s, just as our Beloved sees behind the sin and shame we hide behind to look into the souls for who we are, made in God’s image.  Everything about the Shulamite is compared to the most beautiful things of nature known to man and the spices of the scent of that love are extolled.  The beloved sees her as beautiful and without blemish, a picture of how we are perceived and reckoned by God in the cleansing righteousness of Christ’s sacrifice, the blood shed in His atoning death to make us as if we were without blemish as a perfect sacrificial lamb which He is.  The beloved calls to his spouse from the highest mountains to join him because she has ravished his heart by her beauty and allure of desire.  He tells her that her love is finer than wine in its sparkling, taste, and soothing nature no doubt.  Her scent of love is far better than any spice or perfume that has ever been made by man’s hands.  Likewise, our allure as God’s creations in His image must appear similar to Him and move His love upon us enough to sacrifice His one and only Son to have us as His bride!   We are as the garden of Eden as the Shulamite was to her beloved, with pleasant fruits and spices and fountains of bubbling living water.  Our living water of course comes as His very Spirit living in us and bubbling up from His presence and love as He calls us to return to Eden’s garden in a sense at the coming of the New Jerusalem out of heaven itself.  Our response then is similar to the Shulamite’s, calling out for the winds to blow and fruit to grow that the Beloved may be well-pleased with us.  This is the well-pleasing love of our Beloved and ours for Him; He is ours and we are His.