Who is this that comes out of the wilderness like pillars of smoke, perfumed with myrrh and frankincense, with all the fragrant powders of the merchant?
I sleep, but my heart wakes: it is the voice of my beloved that knocks, saying, Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my perfect one: for my head is filled with dew, and my locks with the drops of the night.
And you yourselves be like unto men that wait for their lord, when he will return from the wedding; that when he comes and knocks, they may open unto him immediately.
And not by his coming only, but by the consolation with which he was comforted in you, when he told us your earnest desire, your mourning, your fervent mind toward me; so that I rejoiced the more.