Song of Solomon 5:4-7

My beloved put in his hand by the hole of the door, And my bowels were moved for him. I rose up to open to my beloved; And my hands dropped with myrrh, And my fingers with sweet smelling myrrh, Upon the handles of the lock. I opened to my beloved; But my beloved had withdrawn himself, and was gone: My soul failed when he spake: I sought him, but I could not find him; I called him, but he gave me no answer. The watchmen that went about the city found me, They smote me, they wounded me; The keepers of the walls took away my veil from me.