Thy cheeks are comely with plaits of hair , Thy neck with strings of jewels.

Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; Thine eyes are as doves behind thy veil. Thy hair is as a flock of goats, That lie along the side of mount Gilead.

I am sleeping, but my heart is awake; it is the sound of my loved one at the door, saying, Be open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my very beautiful one; my head is wet with dew, and my hair with the drops of the night.

His head is as the most delicate gold; his hair is thick, and black as a raven.

Turn away thine eyes from me, For they overcome me. Thy hair is as a flock of goats On the slopes of Gilead.

Thy head upon thee is like Carmel, And the hair of thy head like purple; The king is held captive in the tresses thereof .