⁶ His left hand is under my head, and his right hand doth embrace me.

⁷ I charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and by the hinds of the field, that ye stir not up, nor awake my love, till he please.

⁸ The voice of my beloved! behold, he cometh leaping upon the mountains, skipping upon the hills.

⁹ 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.

¹⁰ My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.