Chapter 3, verses 5-8

I admonish you, O maidens of Jerusalem,

By the gazelles or by the hinds of the field,

That you will not arouse or awaken my love

until she pleases.

What is this coming up from the wilderness?

Like columns of smoke,

Perfumed with myrrh and frankincense,

With all the scented powders of the merchant?

Behold it is the traveling couch of Solomon;

Sixty mighty men around it,

All of them are wielders of the sword

Guarding against the terror of the night.

In moments of self-doubt, feeling unworthy and undeserving of such great love, it all felt like too much. How could I, so lowly, so dirty, so stupid, so flawed and insignificant, be loved so purely and powerfully by a king? How could the Creator of all, so magnificent and perfect, love me?

How beautiful are your feet in sandals, 0 prince's daughter! The curves of your hips are like jewels, The work of the hands of an artist. Your navel is like a round goblet which never lacks mixed wine; Your belly is like a heap of wheat fenced about with lilies. Your two breasts are like two fawns. The king is captivated by your tresses.