Song of Solomon 2:14-17

¹⁴Thou art my dove, in the shelter of the rock, Near the wall: Show me thy face, And cause me to hear thy voice; For thy voice is sweet, And thy countenance is beautiful.

¹⁵Take us the little foxes that spoil the vines: For our vines put forth tender grapes.

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

¹⁷Until the day dawn, and the shadows depart, Turn, my kinsman, Be thou like to a roe or young hart On the mountains of the ravines.