Like a slice of pomegranate, are thy temples, from behind thy veil:

Threescore, are the queens, and, fourscore, are the concubines, - and, virgins, there are, without number.

One alone, is my dove, my perfect one, one alone, was she to her mother, Pure, was she to her that bare her, - The daughters, have seen her, and pronounced her happy, Queens and concubines, and they have praised her.

THEYReturn, return, O Shulamite, Return, return, that we may look on thee! SHEWhat would ye look on in the Shulamite? THEYAs it were the dance of a double camp --

THEYWho is this, that looketh forth like the dawn, beautiful as the moon, pure as the sun, majestic as bannered hosts?

HETo the garden of nuts, I went down, to look at the fresh shoots of the ravine, - to see whether: had burst forth the vine, had blossomed the pomegranate: -

I know not how it was , my soul, set for me the chariots of my willing people!

DAUGHTERS OF JERUSALEMWhither hath thy beloved, gone, thou most beautiful among women? whither hath thy beloved turned him aside? That we may seek him with thee.

I, am, my beloved's, and, my beloved, is mine, he that pastureth among lilies.

HEBeautiful, art thou, my fair one, as Tirzah, comely, as Jerusalem, - majestic as bannered hosts!

Turn away thine eyes from me, for, they, have excited me, - Thy hair, is like a flock of goats, that are reclining on the sides of Mount Gilead:

SHEMy beloved, is gone down to his garden, to the beds of balsam, - to pasture in the gardens, and to gather lilies,

Thy teeth, are like a flock of sheep which have come up from the washing-place, - whereof, all of them, are twin-bearers, and bereaved, is there none among them: