The Song of Solomon 2:9-14

⁹My kinsman is like a roe or a young hart on the mountains of Bæthel: 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; yea, come.

¹⁴Thou art my dove, in the shelter of the rock, near the wall: shew me thy face, and cause me to hear thy voice; for thy voice is sweet, and thy countenance is beautiful.