and that because of the good and pleasant savour. Thy name is sweet smelling ointment when it is shed forth; therefore do the maidens love thee.

The flowers appear in our country and the time is come to cut the vines. The voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.

Get us the foxes, yea the little foxes that hurt the vines, for our vines bear blossoms.

I will get up, thought I, and go about the city, in the ways and in all the streets will I seek him whom my soul loveth: but when I sought him, I found him not.

I have put off my coat: how can I do it on again? I have washed my feet, how shall I defile them again?

so that many waters are not able to quench love, neither may the streams drown it. Yea, if a man would give all the good of his house for love, he should count it nothing.

O get thee away, my love, as a roe or a young hart unto the sweet smelling mountains.