Up, haste my love, my dove, in the holes of the rock and secret places of the walls. Show me thy face and let me hear thy voice: for thy voice is sweet and thy fashion beautiful.

So when I was a little past them, I found him whom my soul loveth. I have gotten hold upon him, and will not let him go, until I bring him into my mother's house, and in to her chamber that bare me.

O come on my love; let us go forth into the field, and take our lodging in the villages.

Thou that dwellest in the gardens, O let me hear thy voice, that my companions may hearken to the same.