8. One is my dove, my perfect one. One is her mother; elect is she who bore her. The daughters saw her, and they proclaimed her most blessed. The queens and concubines saw her, and they praised her.
9. Chorus to Groom: Who is she, who advances like the rising dawn, as beautiful as the moon, as elect as the sun, as terrible as an army in battle array?
10. Bride: I descended to the garden of nuts, in order to see the fruits of the steep valleys, and to examine whether the vineyard had flourished and the pomegranates had produced buds.
11. I did not understand. My soul was stirred up within me because of the chariots of Amminadab.
12. Chorus to Bride: Return, return, O Sulamitess. Return, return, so that we may consider you.