7 Tell me, O thou whom my soul loves, where thou dost feed, where thou dost make thy flock to rest at noon; for why did I have to be as a wanderer after the flocks of thy companions?
8 If thou know not, O thou fairest among women, go forth, following the footprints of the flock and feed thy little female goats beside the booths of the shepherds.
9 I have compared thee, O my love, to a mare of the chariots of Pharaoh.
10 Thy cheeks are beautiful between the earrings, thy neck between the necklaces.
11 We will make thee earrings of gold with studs of silver.
12 While the king was on his couch, my spikenard gave forth its fragrance.
13 A bundle of myrrh is my wellbeloved unto me that rests between my breasts.