My beloved is like a gazelle or a young hart. Behold, he standeth behind our wall, He looketh in through the windows, Glancing through the lattice.

Until the day dawn, and the shadows flee away. Turn, my beloved: be thou like a gazelle or a young hart, Upon the mountains of Bether.

Who is this, she that cometh up from the wilderness Like pillars of smoke, Perfumed with myrrh and frankincense, With all powders of the merchant? ...

Thy teeth are like a flock of shorn sheep, Which go up from the washing; Which have all borne twins, And none is barren among them.

Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet, And thy speech is comely; As a piece of a pomegranate are thy temples Behind thy veil.

Thy neck is like the tower of David, Built for an armoury: A thousand bucklers hang thereon, All shields of mighty men.

Thy two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle, Which feed among the lilies.

Thy lips, my spouse, drop as the honeycomb; Honey and milk are under thy tongue; And the smell of thy garments is like the smell of Lebanon.

His eyes are like doves by the water-brooks, Washed with milk, fitly set;

Thy teeth are like a flock of sheep Which go up from the washing; Which have all borne twins, And none is barren among them.

How beautiful are thy footsteps in sandals, O prince's daughter! The roundings of thy thighs are like jewels, The work of the hands of an artist.

Thy two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle;

Thy neck is as a tower of ivory; Thine eyes, like the pools in Heshbon, By the gate of Bath-rabbim; Thy nose like the tower of Lebanon, Which looketh toward Damascus;

Thy head upon thee is like Carmel, And the locks of thy head like purple; The king is fettered by thy ringlets!

This thy stature is like to a palm-tree, And thy breasts to grape clusters.

I said, I will go up to the palm-tree, I will take hold of the boughs thereof; And thy breasts shall indeed be like clusters of the vine, And the fragrance of thy nose like apples,

And the roof of thy mouth like the best wine, ... That goeth down smoothly for my beloved, And stealeth over the lips of them that are asleep.

I am a wall, and my breasts like towers; Then was I in his eyes as one that findeth peace.

Haste, my beloved, And be thou like a gazelle or a young hart Upon the mountains of spices.