God’s glory on her was full of splendor.
It was like the full moon that applauds the sun’s brightness.
It was beyond comprehension.
It held her head on high, and made her stand above her equals.
Everyone who saw her knew it was the hand of God that wrought her.
She was like the dove hiding among rocks on the side of a cliff.
She moved gracefully as the pony that leads the chariot of the king.
Her garment had the aroma of cedar trees from Lebanon.
Her legs were columns of marble on feet of gold.
Her hair was wavy, black as a raven
Her body was like an ivory decorated with sapphires.
Her skin was dark and beautiful,
like Solomon’s curtains.
Her neck was more graceful than the tower of David,
Decorated with thousands of warrior’s shields.
Her breasts were perfect;
they were like twin deer feeding among lilies.
A glance of her was breath taking.
But she refused to give God the glory he deserved.
She became so proud in all of these,
And boasted about her beauty.
She teased the poor, and laughed the weary to scorn.
Then her beauty faded away like the morning dew,
Because the glory of God departed from her.
In tears she named herself ICHABOD,
which means the glory of God has departed.
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