Song of Songs.
Chapter 7.
Your steps are beautiful in shoes, O daughter of the prince: the joints of your thighs are like chains, the work of the craftsman. 
Your navel is as a turned bowl, not lacking liquor; your belly is as a heap of wheat set about with lilies. 
Your two breasts are as two twin fawns. 
Your neck is as an ivory tower; your eyes are as pools in Esebon, by the gates of the daughter of many: your nose is as the tower of Libanus, looking towards Damascus. 
Your head upon you is as Carmel, and the curls of your hair like scarlet; the king is bound in the galleries. 
How beautiful are you, and how sweet are you, my love! 
This is your greatness in your delights: you were made like a palm tree, and your breasts to cluster. 
I said, I will go up to the palm tree, I will take hold of its high boughs: and now shall your breasts be as clusters of the vine, and the smell of your nose of apples; 
and your throat as good wine, going well with my kinsman, suiting my lips and teeth. 
I am my kinsman's, and his desire is towards me. 
Come, my kinsman, let us go forth into the field; let us lodge in the villages. 
Let us go early into the vineyards; let us see if the vine has flowered, if the blossoms have appeared, if the pomegranates have blossomed; there will I give you my breasts. 
The mandrakes have given a smell, and at our doors are all kinds of choice fruits, new and old. O my kinsman, I have kept them for you. 
