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7 How gracefully thou dost step
In thy sandals, thou prince’s daughter!
The curves of thy thighs are like jewels,
wrought by the hands of an artist.
2 Thy waist is a rounded bowl–
Be never the sweet wine wanting.
Thy belly a heap of wheat,
That is set about with lilies.
3 Thy breasts like a pair of fawns
That are twins of a gazelle,
4 Thy neck like the ivory tower.
Thine eyes are like Heshbon’s pools,
By the gate of the populous city,
Thy nose like the tower of Lebanon
That looketh toward Damascus,
5 Thy head is like Carmel upon thee,
Thy flowing locks are as purple:
Thy tresses hold captive the king.
6 How fair, my beloved, art thou!
How lovely in love’s delights!
7 Thou art slender and tall as a palm,
And thy breasts are like its clusters.
8 I vowed I would climb this palm,
And take hold of the branches thereof.
O let thy breasts be as clusters,
The smell of thy breath be as apples,
9 Thy lips be as wine of the best,
That goeth down smoothly
And glides o’er the lips and the teeth.
The Bride’s Longing
10 I am my darling’s;
He longeth for me.
11 Come, then, my love,
Let us go the to the fields,
Let us lodge among the henna.
12 And early we’ll hie to the vineyards,
To see if the vine be in bud,
If its blossoms have opened,
And pomegranates flower;
And there my caresses I’ll give thee.
13 The love-apples give forth their scent;
At our door are all manner of fruits,
Precious fruits, both new and old,
That I stored up for thee, my beloved.