7 I charge you, O ye virgins of Jerusalem, by the roes and by the hinds of the field that ye not awake nor stir up love, until he pleases.
8 The voice of my beloved! behold, he comes leaping over the mountains, skipping over the hills.
9 My beloved is like a roe or a young hart; behold, he stands behind our wall; he looks through the windows, blossoming through the lattice.
10 My beloved spoke and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.
11 For, behold, the winter is past; the rain is over and gone;
12 the flowers appear on the earth; the time of the song is come, and the voice of the turtle dove has been heard in our land;
13 the fig tree has put forth her green figs, and the vines in blossom have given forth their fragrance. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.