Song of Solomon 5:4

I have come into my garden, my sister, my bride.

I have gathered my myrrh with my spice;

I have eaten my honeycomb with my honey;

I have drunk my wine with my milk.

Eat, friends!

Drink, yes, drink abundantly, beloved.

I was asleep, but my heart was awake.

It is the voice of my beloved who knocks:

“Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled;

for my head is filled with dew,

and my hair with the dampness of the night.”

I have taken off my robe. Indeed, must I put it on?

I have washed my feet. Indeed, must I soil them?

I rose up to open for my beloved.

My hands dripped with myrrh,

my fingers with liquid myrrh,

on the handles of the lock.

I opened to my beloved;

but my beloved left, and had gone away.

My heart went out when he spoke.

I looked for him, but I didn’t find him.

I called him, but he didn’t answer.

The watchmen who go about the city found me.

They beat me.

They bruised me.

The keepers of the walls took my cloak away from me.