By night on my bed I was looking for him who is the love of my soul: I was looking for him, but I did not see him.

My loved one is like a roe; see, he is on the other side of our wall, he is looking in at the windows, letting himself be seen through the spaces.

Where is your loved one gone, O most fair among women? Where is your loved one turned away, that we may go looking for him with you?

Who is she, looking down as the morning light, fair as the moon, clear as the sun, who is to be feared like an army with flags?

Your neck is as a tower of ivory; your eyes like the waters in Heshbon, by the doorway of Bath-rabbim; your nose is as the tower on Lebanon looking over Damascus: