The Beloved

You are pleasant, oh my Lord
Your shade is my delight
and your fruit sweet to my taste

I sit in the shadow of your wings
against your strong chest I lean
listening contently to your song

Sing to me beloved
call my heart home
with your voice
Whisper to me your love

For the time of singing has come
and the song of my dove is here
The rain has ended
and my garden is ripe

The day will break
and my heart leap
for upon the mountain
he will stand

I will grasp his words to my heart
and become a mountain of myrrh
drip honeycomb from my lips
wrapped in his garments of spice

Your wine goes down smoothly, oh beloved
blowing wind through my garden.

"Let me hear your song, my dove, I am held captive by your eyes."

"I am my beloved's
and my beloved is mine"
"Make haste my love, my Lord, make haste."