And I heard a voice out of the heaven saying to me, “Write, ‘Blessed are the dead who die in the Master from now on.’ ” “Yes,” says the Spirit, “in order that they rest from their labours, and their works follow with them.”
I was sleeping, But my heart was awake – the voice of my beloved! He knocks, “Open for me, my sister, My love, my dove, my perfect one; For my head is drenched with dew, My locks with the drops of the night.”
“O my dove, in the clefts of the rock, In the covering of the cliff, Let me see your appearance, Let me hear your voice; For your voice is sweet, And your appearance is lovely.”