Song of Solomon 1
The Song of Solomon stands apart from every other book in the Bible. It does not teach or prophesy or narrate a history; it sings. It is a collection of love poems passing between a bride and her bridegroom, full of longing and praise and the language of the body, and it never once pauses to apologize for itself. The opening line gives it its name and its scale - The song of songs, which is Solomon's (v. 1) - a Hebrew way of saying the finest song of all. Then, without preamble, the bride speaks, and her first words are pure desire: Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy love is better than wine (v. 2). That this book sits in Scripture at all says something quiet and important: the love between husband and wife, with all its attraction and delight, is treated here not as a danger to be managed but as a good gift to be sung about.3
She does not wait to be pursued. Draw me, we will run after thee (v. 4), she says - her longing is active, eager, unashamed. And she speaks of herself with striking honesty: I am black, but comely, O ye daughters of Jerusalem (v. 5). Weathered by the sun and by hard labour in her brothers' vineyards, she does not pretend otherwise - yet she claims her beauty all the same. She is dark, and she is lovely, and she will not let anyone, including her own self-doubt, talk her out of it. Then she turns to find her beloved, asking plainly where he keeps his flock: Tell me, O thou whom my soul loveth, where thou feedest, where thou makest thy flock to rest at noon (v. 7). Love, in this song, seeks. It does not sit still.
From there the chapter becomes a duet. The two voices answer one another in mounting praise: he compares her to the splendour of a royal chariot-horse and adorns her with gold; she calls him a bundle of myrrh, a fragrance she will hold close through the night. Behold, thou art fair, my love, he says; behold, thou art fair, my beloved, she answers (vv. 15-16). The song comes to rest at last in a green bower roofed with cedar and fir - a picture of a love at home in the world God made. And from the earliest days the people of God have heard in all this a second music: the longing of the soul for the LORD, and of the church for Christ the Bridegroom, who calls His people lovely and gives Himself for them (Eph. 5:25-27).2
Tap any highlighted phrase to jump to the commentary that unpacks it.
Song of Solomon 1:1-4Thy Love Is Better Than Wine
1The song of songs, which is Solomon's. 2Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy love is better than wine. 3Because of the savour of thy good ointments thy name is as ointment poured forth, therefore do the virgins love thee. 4Draw me, we will run after thee: the king hath brought me into his chambers: we will be glad and rejoice in thee, we will remember thy love more than wine: the upright love thee.
The book names itself in its first breath: The song of songs, which is Solomon's (v. 1). The phrase is a Hebrew superlative, the same form as king of kings or holy of holies - not merely a song but the song, the finest of them all. And then, where most books would set a scene or name a speaker, this one simply lets desire speak: Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy love is better than wine (v. 2). Notice how the voice shifts mid-verse - let him kiss me, spoken of the beloved, slides into thy love, spoken straight to him - as though longing cannot keep its distance and rushes from speaking about him to speaking to him. The bride opens the whole song, and she opens it with wanting. There is no embarrassment here, no throat-clearing. The very placement of this book in Scripture makes a quiet declaration: the love between husband and wife, with all its warmth and its yearning, is not a thing to be hidden or apologized for. It is good, and it is worth singing about in the finest song of all.3
She reaches for the highest comparison her world knew and then surpasses it: thy love is better than wine (v. 2). Wine, in the ancient imagination, was the very emblem of gladness - the drink that maketh glad the heart of man (Ps. 104:15), the luxury of feasts and celebrations, the taste of joy itself. To say his love is better than wine is to set it above the keenest pleasure she can name. And the praise keeps climbing: Because of the savour of thy good ointments thy name is as ointment poured forth (v. 3). In a hot land before plumbing, fragrant oil was costly and precious, and a sealed jar kept its scent; but oil poured forth fills a whole room. His very name - his reputation, the mention of him - is like that opened jar, spreading sweetness wherever it goes, so that the virgins love thee. Others are drawn to him too; he is widely admired. Yet her longing is not for him to be admired at large but to be hers in particular. The language is sensory all the way down - taste, scent, touch - and the song refuses to treat the senses as somehow beneath love. They are love's own vocabulary.
Her desire is not passive: Draw me, we will run after thee (v. 4). She asks to be drawn, and the moment she is, there is running - eager, wholehearted pursuit. Love here is responsive and active at once: it answers a call and then chases hard after the one who called. The line widens, too, from me to we, as if her joy cannot stay private and gathers others into the gladness. The king hath brought me into his chambers, she says, and the royal language lifts the beloved to the height of honour in her eyes - to her he is a king, and to be brought into his chambers is the height of welcome. We will be glad and rejoice in thee, we will remember thy love more than wine. The earlier comparison returns like a refrain: above the best the world can pour out, she sets him. And the verse closes with a quiet moral note - the upright love thee. This love is not reckless or shameful; it is the love of the upright, the kind of devotion that honest and good people rightly give. Desire and integrity are not at war in this song. They keep company.
Song of Solomon 1:5-8I Am Black, but Comely
5I am black, but comely, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, as the tents of Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon. 6Look not upon me, because I am black, because the sun hath looked upon me: my mother's children were angry with me; they made me the keeper of the vineyards; but mine own vineyard have I not kept. 7Tell me, O thou whom my soul loveth, where thou feedest, where thou makest thy flock to rest at noon: for why should I be as one that turneth aside by the flocks of thy companions? 8If thou know not, O thou fairest among women, go thy way forth by the footsteps of the flock, and feed thy kids beside the shepherds' tents.
The bride turns to the other women of the city and speaks of herself with disarming honesty: I am black, but comely, O ye daughters of Jerusalem (v. 5). She does not hide what she is - her skin is dark, weathered - and she does not let it diminish her: she is dark and lovely, both at once, and she says so plainly. The comparisons she chooses are telling: as the tents of Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon. The tents of Kedar were woven of dark goat's hair, the dwellings of desert nomads - humble, sun-darkened, and yet home; the curtains of Solomon were the rich hangings of a palace - splendid, costly, beautiful. She holds the two images together over herself: weathered like a nomad's tent, and lovely as a king's draperies. There is no false modesty in her, and no vanity either - just an honest woman who knows she has been worn by life and insists, rightly, that she is beautiful all the same. The Song lets her say it. Beauty here is not a single narrow standard handed down by the daughters of Jerusalem; it is hers to claim, dark skin and all.
She explains where the darkness came from, and the explanation carries an ache: Look not upon me, because I am black, because the sun hath looked upon me: my mother's children were angry with me; they made me the keeper of the vineyards; but mine own vineyard have I not kept (v. 6). The sun darkened her because she was put to hard outdoor labour by her own brothers, who were angry with her - family strife, not her choosing, is the reason she is weathered. And then the line that lingers: mine own vineyard have I not kept. Made to tend everyone else's vines, she had no strength left to tend her own - and “my own vineyard” here means her own self, her own beauty, her own life. It is the quiet grief of the one who pours herself out for others and is left with nothing for herself. There is real tenderness in the song's honesty here: love does not require her to pretend she is unmarked or untired. She comes to her beloved exactly as she is - sunburned, overworked, her own garden untended - and the song does not ask her to be otherwise before she is wanted.
Now she goes looking for him, and she asks the way without shame: Tell me, O thou whom my soul loveth, where thou feedest, where thou makest thy flock to rest at noon (v. 7). She names him with one of the song's tenderest phrases - thou whom my soul loveth - love reaching all the way down into her very being. He is pictured as a shepherd, resting his flock from the blaze of the midday sun, and she wants to know where to find him, for why should I be as one that turneth aside by the flocks of thy companions? She has no wish to wander among the other shepherds, veiled and searching, looking like a stranger or worse; she wants to come straight to him. Love seeks plainly and asks directly. And an answering voice replies - the beloved, or perhaps the chorus speaking for him: If thou know not, O thou fairest among women, go thy way forth by the footsteps of the flock, and feed thy kids beside the shepherds' tents (v. 8). He calls her fairest among women - the very thing she half-doubted of herself - and gives her a way to find him: follow the tracks the flock has left, and you will come to where I am. The seeking is met. The one who asks the way is given it.
Song of Solomon 1:9-17Behold, Thou Art Fair, My Love
9I have compared thee, O my love, to a company of horses in Pharaoh's chariots. 10Thy cheeks are comely with rows of jewels, thy neck with chains of gold. 11We will make thee borders of gold with studs of silver. 12While the king sitteth at his table, my spikenard sendeth forth the smell thereof.
The beloved's voice returns, and his first compliment is one the modern ear has to work to hear rightly: I have compared thee, O my love, to a company of horses in Pharaoh's chariots (v. 9). It is not a conventional sweet nothing - he likens her to a chariot-horse - but in his world Egyptian chariot-horses were among the most magnificent and prized creatures alive: powerful, spirited, groomed, decked in ornament, the very picture of beauty joined to strength. He is telling her she is splendid, arresting, the kind of beauty that turns every head - not a delicate ornament but a glory. Then he adorns her: Thy cheeks are comely with rows of jewels, thy neck with chains of gold (v. 10), and promises more - We will make thee borders of gold with studs of silver (v. 11). He delights to deck the one he loves, to set her beauty off with gold and silver as a jeweller sets a stone. She answers from her own side of the scene: While the king sitteth at his table, my spikenard sendeth forth the smell thereof (v. 12). Spikenard was a rare and costly perfume; while the beloved - her king - reclines at the feast, her fragrance rises to him. Each is, to the other, the most precious presence in the room.
13A bundle of myrrh is my wellbeloved unto me; he shall lie all night betwixt my breasts. 14My beloved is unto me as a cluster of camphire in the vineyards of Engedi. 15Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; thou hast doves' eyes. 16Behold, thou art fair, my beloved, yea, pleasant: also our bed is green. 17The beams of our house are cedar, and our rafters of fir.
Now the bride speaks of holding her beloved close, and the song does not look away: A bundle of myrrh is my wellbeloved unto me; he shall lie all night betwixt my breasts (v. 13). Myrrh was a precious, fragrant resin, often worn in a small pouch against the body so its scent would warm and rise through the day; she makes her beloved that sachet, held through the night against her heart. The image is tender and frankly physical at once, and the Song offers it without a blush. She adds another: My beloved is unto me as a cluster of camphire in the vineyards of Engedi (v. 14) - camphire (henna) blossoms grew in fragrant white clusters, and Engedi was a lush oasis above the Dead Sea, a startling green in a parched land. He is, to her, sweetness blooming in a desert place. What matters here is the wholeness of her love. The Song never splits the body from the heart, the senses from the soul. She loves him with all of herself - her affection and her arms, her longing and her embrace - and the book treats this not as something to be tolerated but as something good, the way love between husband and wife is meant to be.
The chapter comes to rest in a duet of mutual delight. He says it twice, as though once is not enough: Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; thou hast doves' eyes (v. 15). The repetition is the language of wonder - a man so taken with the sight of his beloved that he simply says it again. Doves' eyes suggests gentleness, purity, a soft and trusting gaze; he is praising not only her beauty but the tenderness he sees looking back at him. And she answers in the same key, turning his very words around: Behold, thou art fair, my beloved, yea, pleasant (v. 16). His praise is met with hers; the delight runs both ways and neither is the mere object of the other. Then her eye widens to take in the whole world around their love: also our bed is green. The beams of our house are cedar, and our rafters of fir (vv. 16-17). The “bed” is green grass, the “house” the living trees overhead - their love is at home outdoors, roofed by cedar and fir, bedded on the green earth. It is a picture of love perfectly at ease in the good creation, needing no palace because the world itself has become their bridal chamber. The first chapter ends not in restlessness but in rest - two who delight in each other, at home together in the world God made.
Further study
- The Hebrew text of Song of Songs 1 with Rashi and the classical commentators side by side - useful for dod (v. 2 and throughout, the “love”/“beloved” that runs through the whole book) and for naveh (v. 5, the “comely” that means beautiful, fitting, at home), and for seeing how the synagogue read this song as a portrait of God's love for His people.
- Song of Solomon 1 ↔ Ephesians 5 · John 3 · 2 Corinthians 11Intertextual BibleTraces the threads tying the Song to the rest of Scripture - the bride's longing (vv. 2, 4) and the bridegroom's praise (v. 15) read alongside the marriage imagery the prophets and apostles use of God and His people: thy Maker is thine husband (Isa. 54:5), He that hath the bride is the bridegroom (John 3:29), and Christ who loved the church and gave Himself for it (Eph. 5:25-27).
- The NET Bible's detailed footnotes on Song of Solomon 1 - the superlative force of “song of songs” (v. 1), the imagery of the bride's sun-darkened beauty (vv. 5-6), the shepherd-and-flock setting of verses 7-8, and the comparison to Pharaoh's chariot-horse in verse 9.
Where this echoes in Scripture
Thy Love Is Better Than Wine
- Ephesians 5:25-27Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the church, and gave himself for it... that he might present it to himself a glorious church.The married love the Song celebrates held up as the very likeness of Christ’s love for His people.
- John 3:29He that hath the bride is the bridegroom: but the friend of the bridegroom... rejoiceth greatly because of the bridegroom’s voice.The Bridegroom named - the second music heard beneath the bride’s longing in verses 2-4.
- John 6:44No man can come to me, except the Father which hath sent me draw him.The drawing that comes before the running - the pattern of verse 4, “draw me, we will run after thee.”
- Psalm 104:15And wine that maketh glad the heart of man...Why “better than wine” (v. 2) is such high praise - wine was the very emblem of gladness.
I Am Black, but Comely
- John 10:14-15I am the good shepherd, and know my sheep, and am known of mine... and I lay down my life for the sheep.The Shepherd the bride seeks in verse 7 - the One who feeds His flock and lays down His life for them.
- Psalm 23:1-2The LORD is my shepherd... He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.The rest at noon the bride asks after (v. 7) - the Shepherd who gives His flock green pasture and still water.
- Ephesians 5:27...that he might present it to himself a glorious church, not having spot, or wrinkle... but... holy and without blemish.The beloved calling the weathered bride “fairest” (v. 8) - love that makes its object lovely.
- Matthew 11:28Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.The open answer to the one who seeks (v. 7) - and rest for the one worn out keeping others’ vineyards (v. 6).
Behold, Thou Art Fair, My Love
- Revelation 19:7-9the marriage of the Lamb is come, and his wife hath made herself ready... Blessed are they which are called unto the marriage supper of the Lamb.The wedding feast at the end of all things - the love the chapter’s mutual delight (vv. 15-16) quietly points toward.
- Ezekiel 16:14...thy renown went forth among the heathen for thy beauty: for it was perfect through my comeliness, which I had put upon thee.Beauty “put upon” the beloved by the One who loves her - the wonder behind “thou art fair” (v. 15).
- Genesis 2:24-25Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife... And they were both naked... and were not ashamed.The unashamed goodness of married love that the whole chapter sings - the gift as it was first given.
- Isaiah 62:5...and as the bridegroom rejoiceth over the bride, so shall thy God rejoice over thee.The delight of verses 15-16 lifted higher - God Himself rejoicing over His people as a bridegroom over a bride.