SHEThe voice of my beloved! Lo! here he cometh, - leaping over the mountains, skipping over the hills.

Resembleth, my beloved, a gazelle, or a young stag, - Lo! here he is, standing behind our wall, looking in at the windows, peeping in at the lattice.

(The Bridegroom)
“O my dove, [here] in the clefts in the rock,
In the sheltered and secret place of the steep pathway,
Let me see your face,
Let me hear your voice;
For your voice is sweet,
And your face is lovely.”