And I pass over unto the gate of the fountain, and unto the pool of the king, and there is no place for the beast under me to pass over,

Thy neck as a tower of the ivory, Thine eyes pools in Heshbon, near the gate of Bath-Rabbim, Thy face as a tower of Lebanon looking to Damascus,

And he hath been as a tree, Planted by rivulets of water, That giveth its fruit in its season, And its leaf doth not wither, And all that he doth he causeth to prosper.

And hath been as a tree planted by waters, And by a rivulet he sendeth forth his roots, And he doth not see when heat cometh, And his leaf hath been green, And in a year of dearth he is not sorrowful, Nor doth he cease from making fruit.