Song of Solomon 2:13-16

¹³The fig-tree ripeneth her green figs, And the vines are in blossom; They give forth their fragrance. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.

¹⁴O my dove, that art in the clefts of the rock, In the covert of the steep place, Let me see thy countenance, Let me hear thy voice; For sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely.

¹⁵Take us the foxes, the little foxes, That spoil the vineyards; For our vineyards are in blossom.

¹⁶My beloved is mine, and I am his: He feedeth his flock among the lilies.