Song of Songs 2:8-13.

The voice of my Beloved !
His shout of joy I hear !
Behold, behold, He cometh !
Behold, He draweth near !

He leaps upon the mountains !
He skips upon the hills !
He swiftly draweth nearer !
My bosom throbs and thrills !

A roe is my Beloved !
A young hart, bounding, free !
And see! behold, He standeth
Behind our wall-'tis He !

He standeth and He gazeth
In through the windows there,
And through the lattice showeth
Himself-O vision fair !

Thus came my own Beloved-
His shadow did I see;
And as He stood revealed,
Thus spake He unto me:-

'' Rise up, -My love ! take wing, my dove !
My fair one, come away !
The winter's blast-lo, it is past,
The rain is o'er and gone at last,
And spring holds quickening sway !

"On earth, once drear, glad flowers appear,
While nature trills her lay;
The singing bird to song is stirred-
The turtle in our land is heard,
Soft cooing through the day !

"The sap flows free in the fig-tree-
She putteth forth green figs;
The tendrils twine on budding vine-
The air is filled with fragrance fine
From blooming boughs and twigs !
"Arise, my love ! take wing, my dove !

O fair one, fly away !
The winter's blast-lo, it is past,
The rain is o'er and gone at last:
Come, fair one, haste away ! "

F. A.