CHAP IV.

PART I.

The Bridegroom .

How fair, my love, how wondrous fair
Art thou beyond what others are!
Thy eyes that flame with spotless loves,
Are chast and bright like those of doves.
They shine beneath thy curling locks,
Which seem like goats in num'rous flocks,
That on mount Gilead's brow appear,
Climbing to find sweet pasture there.
Within thy lovely mouth there grows
A set of teeth in even rows,
Like flocks of sheep of equal size,
Just as they from the water rise,
And to be shorn from washing come,
Bearing their snowy fleeces home;
Or like the pretty twins they bear,
When none of 'em abortive are.
Thy lips, that wear a lively red,
Are like a scarlet-colour'd thread:
When with thy sweetest voice they move,
Their graces still more charming prove.
Thy temples, shaded with thy hair,
And cheeks, like cut pomegranates are;
As those abound with purple veins,
In these a blushing tincture reigns.
Such majesty and beauty shine
In that illustrious neck of thine;
Like David's tower it seems to be,
Built for a royal armory:
Thy necklace, strung with glittering gems,
Like thousand shining bucklers seems,
All shields by mighty captains born,
Which that bright tower around adorn.
Thy breasts, which equal beauties share,
Are like two fawns, an equal pair,
The lovely twins o'th' fruitful roe,
Feeding where snow-white lillies grow,
Until the welcome dawn of day,
When gloomy shadows fly away,
Toth' mount of myrrh I'll get me hence,
And to the hill of frankincense.