7 Thou art all fair, O my love, and there is not a spot in thee.
8 Come from Libanus, my spouse, come from Libanus, come: thou shalt be crowned from the top of Amana, from the top of Sanir and Hermon, from the dens of the lions, from the mountains of the leopards.
9 Thou hast wounded my heart, my sister, my spouse, thou hast wounded my heart with one of thy eyes, and with one hair of thy neck.
10 How beautiful are thy breasts, my sister, my spouse! thy breasts are more beautiful than wine, and the sweet smell of thy ointments above all aromatical spices.
11 Thy lips, my spouse, are as a dropping honeycomb, honey and milk are under thy tongue; and the smell of thy garments, as the smell of frankincense.
12 My sister, my spouse, is a garden enclosed, a garden enclosed, a fountain sealed up.
13 Thy plants are a paradise of pomegranates with the fruits of the orchard. Cypress with spikenard.