Deliver yourself as a roe from the hand of the hunter, and as a bird from the hand of the fowler.
In the LORD I put my trust: how can you say to my soul, Flee as a bird to your mountain?
Our soul is escaped as a bird out of the snare of the fowlers: the snare is broken, and we are escaped.
Surely he shall deliver you from the snare of the fowler, and from the destroying pestilence.
Surely in vain is the net spread in the sight of any bird.
I charge you, O you daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and by the does of the field, that you stir not up, nor awaken my love, till he pleases.
My beloved is like a roe or a young stag: behold, he stands behind our wall, he looks forth at the windows, showing himself through the lattice.