Thou art all fair, my love; there is no spot in thee.

Thy teeth are as a flock of sheep which go up from the washing, of which every one beareth twins, and there is not one barren among them.

There are sixty queens, and eighty concubines, and virgins without number.

Let us get up early to the vineyards; let us see if the vine flourisheth, whether the tender grape appeareth, and the pomegranates bud forth: there will I give thee my loves.

Who is this that cometh up from the wilderness, leaning upon her beloved? I raised thee up under the apple-tree: there thy mother brought thee forth: there she brought thee forth that bore thee.