Song of Solomon 6

Where has your beloved gone, O most beautiful among women? Where has your beloved turned that we may seek him with you?

My beloved has gone down to his garden, to the garden bed of the spice, to pasture his flock and to gather lilies in the garden.

I belong to my beloved and he belongs to me; he pastures his flock among the lilies.

You are beautiful, my beloved, as Tirzah, lovely as Jerusalem, overwhelming as an army with banners.

Turn away your eyes from before me, for they overwhelm me. Your hair is like a flock of the goats that moves down from Gilead.

Your teeth are like a flock of the ewes that have come up from the washing, all of them bearing twins, and there is none bereaved among them.

Your cheeks behind your veil are like halves of a pomegranate.

Sixty queens there are, eighty concubines, and maidens beyond number.

My dove, she is the one; my perfect, she is the only one; she is the favorite of her mother who bore her. Maidens see her and consider her fortunate; queens and concubines praise her:

“Who is this that looks down like the dawn, beautiful as the moon, bright as the sun, overwhelming as an army with banners?”

I went down to the orchard of the walnut trees to look at the blossoms of the valley, to see whether the vines have sprouted, whether the pomegranates have blossomed.

I did not know my heart set me in a chariot of my princely people.

Turn, turn, O Shulammite! Turn, turn so that we may look upon you! Why do you look upon the Shulammite as at a dance of the two armies?