Song of Songs 2:8-14

⁸The voice of my kinsman! behold, he comes leaping over the mountains, bounding over the hills.

⁹My kinsman is like a roe or a young hart on the mountains of Baethel: behold, he is behind our wall, looking through the windows, peeping through the lattices.

¹⁰My kinsman answers, and says to me, Rise up, come, my companion, my fair one, my dove.

¹¹For, behold, the winter is past, the rain is gone, it has departed.

¹²The flowers are seen in the land; the time of pruning has arrived; the voice of the turtle-dove has been heard in our land.

¹³The fig tree has put forth its young figs, the vines put forth the tender grape, they yield a smell: arise, come, my companion, my fair one, my dove; yes, come.

¹⁴You are my dove, in the shelter of the rock, near the wall: show me your face, and cause me to hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your countenance is beautiful.