8I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, If ye find my beloved, That ye tell him, that I am sick from love.
9What is thy beloved more than [another] beloved, O thou fairest among women? What is thy beloved more than [another] beloved, That thou dost so adjure us?
10My beloved is white and ruddy, The chiefest among ten thousand.
11His head is [as] the most fine gold; His locks are bushy, [and] black as a raven.
12His eyes are like doves beside the water-brooks, Washed with milk, [and] fitly set.
13His cheeks are as a bed of spices, [As] banks of sweet herbs: His lips are [as] lilies, dropping liquid myrrh.
14His hands are [as] rings of gold set with beryl: His body is [as] ivory work overlaid [with] sapphires.
