Thy teeth are
as a flock of sheep which go up from the washing, whereof every one beareth twins, and there is
not one barren among them.
As a piece of a pomegranate are
thy temples within thy locks.
There are threescore queens, and fourscore concubines, and virgins without number.
My dove, my undefiled is but
one; she is
one of her mother, she is
the choice one
of her that bare her. The daughters saw her, and blessed her; yea
, the queens and the concubines, and they praised her.
looketh forth as the morning, fair as the moon, clear as the sun, and
terrible as an army