HE O my dove! In the retreats of the crag, in the hiding-place of the terrace, Let me see thy form, Let me hear thy voice,—For, thy voice, is sweet, and, thy form, comely.
but the dove found no resting-place for the sole of her foot so she returned unto him into the ark, for, waters, were on the face of all the earth; and he put forth his hand and took her, and brought her in unto him, into the ark.