5 Stay me up with flowers, compass me about with apples: because I languish with love.
6 His left hand is under my head, and his right hand shall embrace me.
7 I adjure you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and the harts of the, fields, that you stir not up, nor make the beloved to awake, till she please.
8 The voice of my beloved, behold he cometh leaping upon the mountains, skipping over the hills.
9 My beloved is like a roe, or a young hart. Behold he standeth behind our wall, looking through the windows, looking through the lattices.
10 Behold my beloved speaketh to me: Arise, make haste, my love, my dove, my beautiful one, and come.
11 For winter is now past, the rain is over and gone.