My beloved is white and ruddy, Distinguished above thousands; His head is as the finest gold, His flowing locks are black as the raven. His eyes, like doves in water streams, Are bathing in milk, sitting on fulness; His cheeks are like beds of balsam, Elevations of aromatic plants; His lips are like lilies distilling liquid myrrh. His hands like golden cylinders, inlaid with chrysolite, His body is like polished ivory, covered with sapphires. His legs are like pillars of marble Based upon pedestals of gold. His aspect is like that of Lebanon. He is distinguished as the cedars. His voice is exquisitely sweet; Yea, his whole person is exceedingly lovely. Such is my beloved, such my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem. DAUGHTERS OF JERUSALEM. Chap. VI. Whither is thy beloved gone, O thou fairest among women? Whither is thy beloved turned away? Say, that we may seek him with thee. THE SHULAMITE. My beloved is gone down into his garden, To the beds of aromatics, To feed in the gardens, and to gather lilies. I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is mine; He who feeds his flock among the lilies. SOLOMON. Graceful art thou, O my love, as Tirzah, Beautiful as Jerusalem, Awe-inspiring as bannered hosts! Turn away thine eyes from me, For they inspire me with awe! Thy hair is like a flock of goats Springing down Mount Gilead; Thy teeth are like a flock of sheep, Which come up from the washing-pool; All of which are paired, And not one among them is bereaved. Like a part of the pomegranate Are thy cheeks behind thy veil. I have threescore queens, And fourscore concubines, And maidens without number; But she is my only one, my dove, my perfect beauty, She, the delight of her mother, She, the darling of her parent! The damsels saw her and praised her; The queens also, and the concubines, and extolled her thus: “Who is she that looks forth as the morn, Beautiful as the moon, bright as the sun, Awe-inspiring as bannered hosts?” THE SHULAMITE. I went down into the nut-garden, To look among the green plants by the river, To see whether the vine was budding, Whether the pomegranates were in bloom. Unwittingly had my longing soul brought me To the chariots of the companions of the prince. (She goes away). SOLOMON. Chap. VII. Return, return, O Shulamite, Return, return, that we may look at thee. THE SHULAMITE. What will you behold in the Shulamite? SOLOMON.