1 Whither is thy love gone then, O thou fairest among women; whither is thy love departed, that we may seek him with thee?
2 My love is gone down into his garden, unto the sweet smelling beds, that he may refresh himself in the garden, and gather flowers. 3 My love is mine, and I am his, which feedeth among the lilies.
4 Thou art beautiful, O my love, even as loveliness itself; thou art fair as Jerusalem, glorious as an army of men with their banners. 5 Turn away thine eyes from me, for they have set me on fire! Thy hairy locks are like a flock of goats upon the mount of Gilead. 6 Thy teeth are like a flock of sheep that be clipped, which go out of the washing place: where every one beareth two twins, and not one unfruitful among them. 7 Thy cheeks are like a piece of a pomegranate, within thy volupers. 8 There are threescore Queens, and fourscore concubines, and young women without number. 9 But one is my dove, my darling. She is the only beloved of her mother, and dear unto her that bare her. When the daughters saw her, they said, she was blessed: Yea the Queens and concubines praised her.
10 What is she, this that peepeth out as the morning, fair as the moon, excellent as the sun, glorious as an army of men with their banners?
11 I went down into the nut garden, to see what grew by the brooks, to look if the vineyard flourished, and if the pomegranates were shot forth. 12 Then the chariots of the prince of my people made me suddenly afraid.
13 Turn again, turn again, O thou Shulamite; turn again, turn again, that we may look upon thee. What pleasure have ye more in the Shulamite, than when she danceth among the men of war?