Your neck is like the tower of David, built with rows of stones. A thousand shields are hung upon it, all the shields of the warriors.

I was asleep, but my heart was awake. There's a sound! My beloved is knocking. "Open up for me, my sister, my darling, my dove, my perfect one. For my head is drenched with dew, my hair with the dampness of the night."

I got up to open the door, and my hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with liquid myrrh, on the handle of the lock.