Song of Songs 2:11-17

11For behold, the winter is past, The rain is over, it is gone: 12The flowers appear on the earth; The time of singing is come, And the voice of the turtle-dove is heard in our land; 13The fig-tree melloweth her winter figs, And the vines in bloom give forth [their] fragrance. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away! 14My dove, in the clefts of the rock, In the covert of the precipice, Let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy voice; For sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely. 15Take us the foxes, The little foxes, that spoil the vineyards; For our vineyards are in bloom. 16My beloved is mine, and I am his; He feedeth [his flock] among the lilies, 17Until the day dawn, and the shadows flee away. Turn, my beloved: be thou like a gazelle or a young hart, Upon the mountains of Bether.