As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God.
My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God: when shall I come and appear before God?
My tears have been my meat day and night, while they continually say unto me, Where is thy God? —
Psalms 42:1–3 (KJV)
O my dove, that are in the clefts of the rock, in the secret (places) of the stairs,
let me see your countenance, let me hear your voice; for sweet is your voice,
and your countenance is comely. Take us the foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the vines:
for our vines have tender grapes. My beloved is mine, and I am his: he feeds among the lilies.
Until the day break, and the shadows flee away, turn, my beloved,
and be like a roe or a young hart upon the mountains of Bether.
(
Song of Solomon 2:14-17)
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