Song of Solomon 2:15

¹³  The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.

¹⁴  O my dove, that art in the clefts of the rock, in the secret places of the stairs, let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy voice; for sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely.

¹⁵  Take us the foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the vines: for our vines have tender grapes.

¹⁶  My beloved is mine, and I am his: he feedeth among the lilies.

¹⁷  Until the day break, and the shadows flee away, turn, my beloved, and be thou like a roe or a young hart upon the mountains of Bether.