8 I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, If ye find my beloved, That ye tell him, that I am sick from love.
9 What 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?
10 My beloved is white and ruddy, The chiefest among ten thousand.
11 His head is 'as' the most fine gold; His locks are bushy, 'and' black as a raven.
12 His eyes are like doves beside the water-brooks, Washed with milk, 'and' fitly set.
Share this page