15 Seize ye for us foxes, Little foxes -- destroyers of vineyards, Even our sweet-smelling vineyards.
16 My beloved 'is' mine, and I 'am' his, Who is delighting among the lilies,
17 Till the day doth break forth, And the shadows have fled away, Turn, be like, my beloved, To a roe, or to a young one of the harts, On the mountains of separation!
Share this page