11For, lo, the winter is past, The rain is over and gone;
12The 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;
13The fig-tree is spicing its green fruit; The vines in blossom give forth fragrance. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away!
14O my dove, that art in the recesses of the rock, In the hiding-places of the steep craggy mountain, Let me see thy face, Let me hear thy voice! For sweet is thy voice, And thy face lovely.”