Song of Songs.
Chapter 6.
Where has your beloved gone, most beautiful among women? In what direction has your beloved gone, so that we may seek him with you? 
My beloved has gone down to his garden, to the beds of spices, to graze in the garden and to gather lilies. 
I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine; he grazes among the lilies with pleasure. 
You are as beautiful as Tirzah, my love, as lovely as Jerusalem, as awe-inspiring as an army with its banners. 
Turn your eyes away from me, for they overwhelm me. Your hair is like a flock of goats going down from the slopes of Gilead. 
Your teeth are like a flock of ewes coming up from the washing place. Each one has a twin, and none among them is bereaved. 
Your cheeks are like pomegranate halves behind your veil. 
There are sixty queens, eighty concubines, and young women without number. 
My dove, my undefiled, is the only one; she is the only daughter of her mother; she is the favorite one of the woman who bore her. The young women saw her and called her blessed; the queens and the concubines saw her also, and they praised her: 
“Who is this who appears like the dawn, as beautiful as the moon, as bright as the sun, as awe-inspiring as an army with its banners?” 
I went down into the grove of nut trees to see the young growth in the valley, to see whether the vines had budded, and whether the pomegranates were in bloom. 
I was so happy that I felt I was riding in the chariot of a prince. 
Turn back, turn back, you perfect woman; turn back, turn back so that we may gaze on you. The woman speaking to the friends Why do you gaze on the perfect woman, as if on the dance between two armies? 
