Song of Solomon 4

Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair;

Thy teeth are like a flock of ewes that are newly shorn,

Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet,

Thy neck is like the tower of David

Thy two breasts are like two fawns

Until the day be cool, and the shadows flee away,

Thou art all fair, my love;

Come with me from Lebanon, my bride,

Thou hast ravished my heart, my sister, my bride;

How fair is thy love, my sister, my bride!

Thy lips, O my bride, drop as the honeycomb:

A garden shut up is my sister, my bride;

Thy shoots are an orchard of pomegranates, with precious fruits;

Spikenard and saffron,

Thou art a fountain of gardens,

Awake, O north wind; and come, thou south;