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'Whither is thy beloved gone, O thou fairest among women? Whither hath thy beloved turned him, that we may seek him with thee?' 'My beloved is gone down into his garden, to the beds of spices, to feed in the gardens, and to gather lilies. I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine, that feedeth among the lilies.' Thou art beautiful, O my love, as Tirzah, comely as Jerusalem, terrible as an army with banners. Turn away thine eyes from me, for they have overcome me. Thy hair is as a flock of goats, that trail down from Gilead. Thy teeth are like a flock of ewes, which are come up from the washing; whereof all are paired, and none faileth among them. Thy temples are like a pomegranate split open behind thy veil. There are threescore queens, and fourscore concubines, and maidens without number. My dove, my undefiled, is but one; she is the only one of her mother; she is the choice one of her that bore her. The daughters saw her, and called her happy; yea, the queens and the concubines, and they praised her. 10 Who is she that looketh forth as the dawn, fair as the moon, clear as the sun, terrible as an army with banners? 11 I went down into the garden of nuts, to look at the green plants of the valley, to see whether the vine budded, and the pomegranates were in flower. 12 Before I was aware, my soul set me upon the chariots of my princely people. 13 (7-1) Return, return, O Shulammite; Return, return, that we may look upon thee. What will ye see in the Shulammite? As it were a dance of two companies.