My beloved is like a roe or a young hart: behold, he standeth behind our wall, he looketh forth at the windows, shewing himself through the lattice.

King Solomon made himself a chariot of the wood of Lebanon.

I opened to my beloved; but my beloved had withdrawn himself, and was gone: my soul failed when he spake: I sought him, but I could not find him; I called him, but he gave me no answer.

(The Chorus)“Where has your beloved gone,
O most beautiful among women?
Where is your beloved hiding himself,
That we may seek him with you?”

My beloved went down to his garden, To the beds of the spice, To delight himself in the gardens, and to gather lilies.

I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine, Who is delighting himself among the lilies.