Their song of love continues.

 HOW beautiful are thy feet with shoes, O prince’s daughter! the joints of thy thighs are like jewels, the work of the hands of a cunning workman.

 Thy navel is like a round goblet, which wanteth not liquor: thy belly is like an heap of wheat set about with lilies.

 Thy two breasts are like two young roes that are twins.

 Thy neck is as a tower of ivory; thine eyes like the fishpools in Heshbon, by the gate of Bath-rabbim: thy nose is as the tower of Lebanon which looketh toward Damascus.

 Thine head upon thee is like Carmel, and the hair of thine head like purple; the king is held in the galleries.

 How fair and how pleasant art thou, O love, for delights!

 This thy stature is like to a palm tree, and thy breasts to clusters of grapes.

 I said, I will go up to the palm tree, I will take hold of the boughs thereof: now also thy breasts shall be as clusters of the vine, and the smell of thy nose like apples;

 And the roof of thy mouth like the best wine for my beloved, that goeth down sweetly, causing the lips of those that are asleep to speak.

 ¶ I am my beloved’s, and his desire is toward me.

 Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the field; let us lodge in the villages.

 Let us get up early to the vineyards; let us see if the vine flourish, whether the tender grape appear, and the pomegranates bud forth: there will I give thee my loves.

 The mandrakes give a smell, and at our gates are all manner of pleasant fruits, new and old, which I have laid up for thee, O my beloved.