O my dove, who are in the clefts of the rock, in the covert of the steep place, let me see thy countenance; let me hear thy voice. For sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely.
Behold, thou are fair, my love, behold, thou are fair. Thine eyes are doves behind thy veil. Thy hair is as a flock of goats that lay along the side of mount Gilead.
My dove, my undefiled, is [but] one. She is the only one of her mother. She is the choice one of her who bore her. The daughters saw her, and called her blessed, [yea], the queens and the concubines, and they praised her.