Song of Solomon 6:4-5, 7-13

Thou art fair, O my love, as Tirzah, Comely as Jerusalem, Terrible as an army with banners. Turn away thine eyes from me, For they have overcome me. Thy hair is as a flock of goats, That lie along the side of Gilead.

Thy temples are like a piece of a pomegranate Behind thy veil. There are threescore queens, and fourscore concubines, And virgins without number. My dove, my undefiled, is but one; She is the only one of her mother; She is the choice one of her that bare her. The daughters saw her, and called her blessed; Yea, the queens and the concubines, and they praised her. Who is she that looketh forth as the morning, Fair as the moon, Clear as the sun, Terrible as an army with banners? I went down into the garden of nuts, To see the green plants of the valley, To see whether the vine budded, And the pomegranates were in flower. Before I was aware, my soul set me Among the chariots of my princely people. Return, return, O Shulammite; Return, return, that we may look upon thee.