⁷I adjure you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and the harts of the field, that you stir not up, nor make the beloved to awake, till she please.

⁸The voice of my beloved, behold he cometh leaping upon the mountains, skipping over the hills.

⁹My beloved is like a roe, or a young hart. Behold he standeth behind our wall, looking through the windows, looking through the lattices.

¹⁰Behold my beloved speaketh to me: Arise, make haste, my love, my dove, my beautiful one, and come.

¹¹For winter is now past, the rain is over and gone.

¹²The flowers have appeared in our land, the time of pruning is come: the voice of the turtle is heard in our land:

¹³The fig tree hath put forth her green figs: the vines in flower yield their sweet smell. Arise, my love, my beautiful one, and come:

¹⁴My dove in the clefts of the rock, in the hollow places of the wall, shew me thy face, let thy voice sound in my ears: for thy voice is sweet, and thy face comely.

¹⁵Catch us the little foxes that destroy the vines: for our vineyard hath flourished.

¹⁶My beloved to me, and I to him who feedeth among the lilies,

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Song of Solomon 2:11: For behold, the winter is past; the rain is over and gone.

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