Chapter 14

 My dove, my beautiful one,
    Arise, arise!
    The night-dew lies
Upon my lips and eyes.
 
The odorous winds are weaving
    A music of sighs:
    Arise, arise,
My dove, my beautiful one!
 
I wait by the cedar tree,
    My sister, my love,
    White breast of the dove,
My breast shall be your bed.
 
The pale dew lies
    Like a veil on my head.
    My fair one, my fair dove,
Arise, arise!