7I have adjured you, daughters of Jerusalem, By the roes or by the hinds of the field, Stir not up nor wake the love till she please!
8The voice of my beloved! lo, this — he is coming, Leaping on the mountains, skipping on the hills.
9My beloved is like to a roe, Or to a young one of the harts. Lo, this — he is standing behind our wall, Looking from the windows, Blooming from the lattice.
10My beloved hath answered and said to me, 'Rise up, my friend, my fair one, and come away,