His head, is pure gold, - his locks, are bushy, black as a raven;

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.

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

I said, I will ascend the palm-tree, I will lay hold of its fruit stalks - Oh then, let thy breasts, I pray thee, be like vine-clusters, And, the fragrance of thy nose, like apples;