4 Thou art fair, my love, as Tirzah, Comely as Jerusalem, Terrible as troops with banners:
5 Turn away thine eyes from me, For they overcome me. Thy hair is as a flock of goats On the slopes of Gilead.
6 Thy teeth are like a flock of sheep Which go up from the washing; Which have all borne twins, And none is barren among them.
7 As a piece of a pomegranate are thy temples Behind thy veil.
8 There are threescore queens, and fourscore concubines, And virgins without number:
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