⁸ I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find my beloved, that ye tell him, that I am sick of love.

⁹ What is thy beloved more than another beloved, O thou fairest among women? what is thy beloved more than another beloved, that thou dost so charge us?

¹⁰ My beloved is white and ruddy, the chiefest among ten thousand.

¹¹ His head is as the most fine gold, his locks are bushy, and black as a raven.

¹² His eyes are as the eyes of doves by the rivers of waters, washed with milk, and fitly set.

¹³ His cheeks are as a bed of spices, as sweet flowers: his lips like lilies, dropping sweet smelling myrrh.

¹⁴ His hands are as gold rings set with the beryl: his belly is as bright ivory overlaid with sapphires.

¹⁵ His legs are as pillars of marble, set upon sockets of fine gold: his countenance is as Lebanon, excellent as the cedars.

¹⁶ His mouth is most sweet: yea, he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.

6 Whither is thy beloved gone, O thou fairest among women? whither is thy beloved turned aside? that we may seek him with thee.

² My beloved is gone down into his garden, to the beds of spices, to feed in the gardens, and to gather lilies.

³ I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine: he feedeth among the lilies.