Thy neck is like the tower of David builded for an armoury, whereon there hang a thousand bucklers, all shields of mighty men.

His cheeks are like a garden bed, wherein the Apothecaries plant all manner of sweet things; His lips are like roses that drop sweet smelling Myrrh.

Thy body is like a round goblet, Wherein no mingled wine is wanting: Thy waist is like a heap of wheat Set about with lilies.