6. His left hand is under my head, And his right hand doth embrace me.
7. I charge you, daughters of Jerusalem, By the gazelles, or by the hinds of the field, That ye stir not up, nor awake my love, till he please.
8. The voice of my beloved! Behold, he cometh Leaping upon the mountains, Skipping upon the hills.
9. My beloved is like a gazelle or a young hart. Behold, he standeth behind our wall, He looketh in through the windows, Glancing through the lattice.
10. My beloved spake and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.