8 If thou know not, O thou fairest among women, Go thy way forth by the footsteps of the flock, And feed thy kids beside the shepherds' tents.
9 I have compared thee, O my love, To a steed in Pharaoh's chariots.
10 Thy cheeks are comely with plaits `of hair', Thy neck with strings of jewels.
11 We will make thee plaits of gold With studs of silver.
12 While the king sat at his table, My spikenard sent forth its fragrance.
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