Song of Solomon 2:8-13

⁸The voice of my beloved, behold he cometh leaping upon the mountains, skipping over the hills.

⁹My beloved is like a roe, or a young hart. Behold he standeth behind our wall, looking through the windows, looking through the lattices.

¹⁰Behold my beloved speaketh to me: Arise, make haste, my love, my dove, my beautiful one, and come.

¹¹For winter is now past, the rain is over and gone.

¹²The flowers have appeared in our land, the time of pruning is come: the voice of the turtle is heard in our land:

¹³The fig tree hath put forth her green figs: the vines in flower yield their sweet smell. Arise, my love, my beautiful one, and come: