Behold, thou art fair, my love, thou art fair Thou hast doves eyes within thy locks Thy hair is as a flock of goats That appear from mount Gilead Thou art beautiful, o my love, as Tirzah, Comely as Jerusalem, Terrible as an army with banners Thy hair is as a flock of goats that appear from Gilead Thou art all fair, my love, There is no spot in thee A garden enclosed is my sister, my spouse, A spring shut up, a fountain sealed Thou art beautiful, o my love, as Tirzah, Comely as Jerusalem, Terrible as an army with banners Thy hair is as a flock of goats that appear from Gilead I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, That ye stir not up, Nor awake my love, Until she please Thou art all fair, my love, There is no spot in thee A garden enclosed is my sister, my spouse, A spring shut up, a fountain sealed