9 Daughters of kings 'are' among thy precious ones, A queen hath stood at thy right hand, In pure gold of Ophir.
10 Hearken, O daughter, and see, incline thine ear, And forget thy people, and thy father's house,
11 And the king doth desire thy beauty, Because he 'is' thy lord -- bow thyself to him,
12 And the daughter of Tyre with a present, The rich of the people do appease thy face.
13 All glory 'is' the daughter of the king within, Of gold-embroidered work 'is' her clothing.
Share this page