The voice of my beloved! Behold, I hear him calling. He cometh for me, Leaping as he comes, Upon the mountains, that divide us. Skipping over the breaks, Upon the hills, looking for his sheep.
I charge you, be careful with your heart, O ye daughters of Jerusalem. By the roes, and the trails of the mountains By the hinds of the field, and the covered hills that ye stir not up your passions nor awake slumbering corruption, but let my love have his way, and stay till he please.
His left hand is stately and mysterious Under my head, which is Christ. And his right hand holds pleasures forevermore, with it he Doth embrace me, giving me hope.
Stay me, my strength fails; With flagons from the cellar of your delights. Comfort me, trouble hunts me, With apples from the tree of life, heal me. For I am slipping and slippery, Sick of love, but not yours.