O my dove, that art in the clefts of the rock, in the covert of the steep place, Let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy voice: For sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely.
For thy Maker is thine husband; the LORD of hosts is his name: and the Holy One of Israel is thy redeemer; the God of the whole earth shall he be called.
The LORD thy God is in the midst of thee, a mighty one who will save: he will rejoice over thee with joy, he will rest in his love, he will joy over thee with singing.
Yea verily, and I count all things to be loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord: for whom I suffered the loss of all things, and do count them but dung, that I may gain Christ,