I am black, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, like as the tents of the Kedarenes, and as the hangings of Solomon: but yet am I fair and well favored withal.

As a bag of myrrh is my well-loved one to me, when he is at rest all night between my breasts.

O how fair art thou, my beloved, how well favored art thou? Our bed is decked with flowers,

All of them are skilled with a sword, well-trained in the art of warfare. Each has his sword at his side, to guard against the terrors of the night.

Thou art a well kept garden, O my sister, my spouse, thou are a well kept watering spring, and a sealed well.

A fountain of gardens, a well of living waters, and streams from Lebanon.

The mandrakes give off a fragrance,
and at our doors is every delicacy—
new as well as old.
I have treasured them up for you, my love.

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(The Shulammite Bride)
“I was a wall, and my breasts were like the towers.
Then I became in the king’s eyes
As one [to be respected and allowed] to find peace.