17
Until the day break, and the shadows flee away, turn, my beloved, and be thou like a roe or a young hart upon the mountains of Bether.
16
My beloved is mine, and I am his: he feedeth among the lilies.
15
Take us the foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the vines: for our vines have tender grapes.
14
O my dove, that art in the clefts of the rock, in the secret places of the stairs, let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy voice; for sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely.
13
The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.
12
The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land;
11
For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone;
10
My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.
9
My beloved is like a roe or a young hart: behold, he standeth behind our wall, he looketh forth at the windows, shewing himself through the lattice.
8
The voice of my beloved! behold, he cometh leaping upon the mountains, skipping upon the hills.