5 Sustain ye me with raisin-cakes, Refresh me with apples; For I am sick of love.
6 His left hand is under my head, And his right hand doth embrace me.
7 I charge you, daughters of Jerusalem, By the gazelles, or by the hinds of the field, That ye stir not up, nor awake [my] love, till he please.
8 The voice of my beloved! Behold, he cometh Leaping upon the mountains, Skipping upon the hills.
9 My beloved is like a gazelle or a young hart. Behold, he standeth behind our wall, He looketh in through the windows, Glancing through the lattice.