Song of Songs 6:2-9

My love has gone down to his garden,  to beds of spice,  to feed in the gardens  and gather lilies.  I am my love’s and my love is mine;  he feeds among the lilies. You are as beautiful as Tirzah, my darling, lovely as Jerusalem, awe-inspiring as an army with banners.  Turn your eyes away from me, for they captivate me.  Your hair is like a flock of goats streaming down from Gilead.  Your teeth are like a flock of ewes coming up from washing, each one having a twin, and not one missing.  , Behind your veil,  your brow  is like a slice of pomegranate. There are sixty queens and eighty concubines  and young women  without number. But my dove,  my virtuous one, is unique;  she is the favorite of her mother, perfect to the one who gave her birth. Women see her and declare her fortunate;  queens and concubines also, and they sing her praises