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3.6 :Like pillars of smoke,
 * Perfumed with myrrh and frankincense,
 * With all powders of the merchant?
 * Behold, it is the litter of Solomon;
 * Threescore mighty men are about it,
 * Of the mighty men of Israel.
 * They all handle the sword,
 * And are expert in war;
 * Every man hath his sword upon his thigh,
 * Because of dread in the night.
 * King Solomon made himself a palanquin
 * Of the wood of Lebanon.
 * He made the pillars thereof of silver,
 * The top thereof of gold,
 * The seat of it of purple,
 * The inside thereof being inlaid with love,
 * From the daughters of Jerusalem.
 * Go forth, O ye daughters of Zion,
 * And gaze upon king Solomon,
 * Even upon the crown wherewith his mother hath crowned him in the day of his espousals,
 * And in the day of the gladness of his heart.


 * Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair;
 * Thine eyes are as doves behind thy veil;
 * Thy hair is as a flock of goats, that trail down from mount Gilead.
 * Thy teeth are like a flock of ewes all shaped alike,
 * Which are come up from the washing;
 * Whereof all are paired, and none faileth among them.
 * Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet,
 * And thy mouth is comely;
 * Thy temples are like a pomegranate split open
 * Behind thy veil.
 * Thy neck is like the tower of David
 * Builded with turrets,
 * Whereon there hang a thousand shields,
 * All the armour of the mighty men.
 * Thy two breasts are like two fawns
 * That are twins of a gazelle,
 * Which feed among the lilies.
 * Until the day breathe,
 * And the shadows flee away,
 * I will get me to the mountain of myrrh,
 * And to the hill of frankincense.
 * Thou art all fair, my love;
 * And there is no spot in thee.
 * Come with me from Lebanon, my bride,
 * With me from Lebanon;
 * Look from the top of Amana,
 * From the top of Senir and Hermon,
 * From the lions' dens,
 * From the mountains of the leopards.
 * Thou hast ravished my heart, my sister, my bride;
 * Thou hast ravished my heart with one of thine eyes,
 * With one bead of thy necklace.
 * How fair is thy love, my sister, my bride!
 * How much better is thy love than wine!
 * And the smell of thine ointments than all manner of spices!
 * Thy lips, O my bride, drop honey—
 * Honey and milk are under thy tongue;
 * And the smell of thy garments is like the smell of Lebanon.
 * A garden shut up is my sister, my bride;
 * A spring shut up, a fountain sealed.
 * Thy shoots are a park of pomegranates,
 * With precious fruits;
 * Henna with spikenard plants,
 * Spikenard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon,