The Winter Is Past — Song of Solomon 2:15–17

Take us the foxes, the little foxes, That spoil the vineyards; For our vineyards are in blossom.

My beloved is mine, and I am his: He feedeth his flock among the lilies.

Until the day be cool, and the shadows flee away, Turn, my beloved, and be thou like a roe or a young hart Upon the mountains of Bether.