6 Look not upon me, because I am swarthy, Because the sun hath scorched me. My mother's sons were incensed against me; They made me keeper of the vineyards; `But' mine own vineyard have I not kept.
7 Tell me, O thou whom my soul loveth, Where thou feedest `thy flock', Where thou makest `it' to rest at noon: For why should I be as one that is veiled Beside the flocks of thy companions?
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.
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