14 “O my ^adove, in the clefts of the rock,
In the secret places of the cliff,
Let me see your¹ face,
^bLet me hear your voice;
For your voice is sweet,
And your face is lovely.” ‡

15 Catch us ^athe foxes,
The little foxes that spoil the vines,
For our vines have tender grapes. ‡

17 ^aUntil the day breaks
And the shadows flee away,
Turn, my beloved,
And be ^blike a gazelle
Or a young stag
Upon the mountains of¹ Bether. ‡