Song of Solomon 5:2-8

I sleep, but my heart waketh: It is the voice of my beloved that knocketh, saying, Open to me, my sister, my love, My dove, my undefiled: For my head is filled with dew, And my locks with the drops of the night. I have put off my coat; How shall I put it on? I have washed my feet; How shall I defile them? 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 I opened to my beloved; But my beloved had withdrawn himself, and was gone: My soul failed when he spake: I sought him, but I could not find him; I called him, but he gave me no answer.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. I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, If ye find my beloved, That ye tell him, that I am sick of love.

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