7Thy cheek is like the rind of a pomegranate, Being seen without thy veil.
8There are sixty queens, and eighty concubines, And maidens without number.
9My dove, my perfect one is one; She is the only one of her mother; She is the choice of her that bore her. The daughters saw her, and the queens will pronounce her blessed, Yea, and the concubines, and they will praise her.