Behold, thou art fair, my love, thou art fair
Thou hast doves eyes within thy locks
Thy hair is as a flock of goats
that appear from mount Gilead
Thou art beautiful, o my love, as Tirzah,
comely as Jerusalem,
terrible as an army with banners
Thy hair is as a flock of goats that appear from Gilead
Thou art all fair, my love,
there is no spot in thee
A garden enclosed is my sister, my spouse,
A spring shut up, a fountain sealed
Thou art beautiful, o my love, as Tirzah,
comely as Jerusalem,
terrible as an army with banners
Thy hair is as a flock of goats that appear from Gilead
I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem,
That ye stir not up,
nor awake my love,
Until she please
Thou art all fair, my love,
there is no spot in thee
A garden enclosed is my sister, my spouse,
A spring shut up, a fountain sealed