⁹ My beloved [is] like to a roe, Or to a young one of the harts. Lo, this -- he is standing behind our wall, Looking from the windows, Blooming from the lattice.

¹⁰ My beloved hath answered and said to me, `Rise up, my friend, my fair one, and come away,

¹¹ For lo, the winter hath passed by, The rain hath passed away -- it hath gone.