² Like a lily among thorns,
So is my love among the daughters.

¹³ The fig tree puts forth her green figs,
And the vines with the tender grapes
Give a good smell.
Rise up, my love, my fair one,
And come away!

4 Behold, ^(A)you are fair, my love!
Behold, you are fair!
You have dove’s eyes behind your veil.
Your hair is like a ^(B)flock of goats,
Going down from Mount Gilead.