1 My beloved is gone down into his garden, to the bed of aromatical spices, to feed in the gardens, and to gather lilies.
2 I to my beloved, and my beloved to me, who feedeth among the lilies.
3 Thou art beautiful, O my love, sweet and comely as Jerusalem: terrible as an army set in array.
4 Turn away thy eyes from me, for they have made me flee away. Thy hair is as a flock of goats, that appear from Galaad.