Song of Songs 4 in the early church

How beautiful you are, my darling—how very beautiful! Your eyes are like doves behind your veil. Your hair is like a flock of goats streaming down Mount Gilead.

Your teeth are like a flock of newly shorn sheep coming up from the washing; each has its twin, and not one of them is lost.

Your lips are like a scarlet ribbon, and your mouth is lovely. Your brow behind your veil is like a slice of pomegranate.

Your neck is like the tower of David, built with rows of stones; on it hang a thousand shields, all of them shields of warriors.

Your breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle grazing among the lilies.

Before the day breaks and the shadows flee, I will make my way to the mountain of myrrh and to the hill of frankincense.

You are altogether beautiful, my darling; in you there is no flaw.

Come with me from Lebanon, my bride, come with me from Lebanon! Descend from the peak of Amana, from the summits of Senir and Hermon, from the dens of the lions, from the mountains of the leopards.

You have captured my heart, my sister, my bride; you have stolen my heart with one glance of your eyes, with one jewel of your neck.

How delightful is your love, my sister, my bride! Your love is much better than wine, and the fragrance of your perfume than all spices.

Your lips, my bride, drip sweetness like the honeycomb; honey and milk are under your tongue, and the fragrance of your garments is like the aroma of Lebanon.

My sister, my bride, you are a garden locked up, a spring enclosed, a fountain sealed.

Your branches are an orchard of pomegranates with the choicest of fruits, with henna and nard,

with nard and saffron, with calamus and cinnamon, with every kind of frankincense tree, with myrrh and aloes, with all the finest spices.

You are a garden spring, a well of fresh water flowing down from Lebanon.

Awake, O north wind, and come, O south wind. Breathe on my garden and spread the fragrance of its spices. Let my beloved come into his garden and taste its choicest fruits.