SONG OF SONGS 2:5-9

⁵Stay ye me with raisins, comfort me with apples: for I am sick of love.

⁶His left hand is under my head, and his right hand doth embrace me.

⁷I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and by the hinds of the field, that ye stir not up, nor awaken love, until it 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 in at the windows, he sheweth himself through the lattice.