5Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples: for I am sick with love.
6His left hand is under my head, and his right hand doth embrace me.
7I charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and by the hinds of the field, that ye stir not, nor awake my love, till he please.
8The voice of my beloved! behold, he cometh leaping upon the mountains, skipping upon the hills.
9My beloved is like a roe, or a young hart: behold, he standeth behind our wall, he looketh forth at the windows, showing himself through the lattice.
10My beloved spoke, and said to me, Rise, my love, my fair one, and come away.
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 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.