For they gat not the land in possession by their own sword, Neither did their own arm save them; But thy right hand, and thine arm, and the light of thy countenance, Because thou wast favorable unto them.
How he sware unto Jehovah, And vowed unto the Mighty One of Jacob:
I am a rose of Sharon, A lily of the valleys.
My beloved is gone down to his garden, To the beds of spices, To feed in the gardens, and to gather lilies.
I rose up to open to my beloved; And my hands droppeth with myrrh, And my fingers with liquid myrrh, Upon the handles of the bolt.