Song of Solomon 8:11

We have a little sister.

She has no breasts.

What shall we do for our sister

in the day when she is to be spoken for?

If she is a wall,

we will build on her a turret of silver.

If she is a door,

we will enclose her with boards of cedar.

I am a wall, and my breasts like towers,

then I was in his eyes like one who found peace.

My own vineyard is before me.

The thousand are for you, Solomon,

two hundred for those who tend its fruit.

You who dwell in the gardens, with friends in attendance,

let me hear your voice!

Come away, my beloved!

Be like a gazelle or a young stag on the mountains of spices!