O my dove, that art in the clefts of the rock,\par\tab In the covert of the steep place,\par\tab Let me see thy countenance,\par\tab Let me hear thy voice;\par\tab For sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely.\par
Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair;\par\tab Thine eyes are {\i as} doves behind thy veil.\par\tab Thy hair is as a flock of goats,\par\tab That lie along the side of mount Gilead.
My dove, my undefiled, is {\i but} one;\par\tab She is the only one of her mother;\par\tab She is the choice one of her that bare her.\par\tab The daughters saw her, and called her blessed;\par\tab {\i Yea}, the queens and the concubines, and they praised her.