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39

SONG XI. The third Canticle. I heare my Loue, and him I see

[_]

Sing this as the fift Song.

[1]

I heare my Loue, and him I see
Come leaping by the Mountains there:
Loe, o're the Hillocks trippeth Hee;
And Roe, or Stag-like doth appeare.
Loe, from behind the wall he pries:
Now, at the window grate is hee:
Now speakes my Deare, and saies, Arise,
My Loue, my Faire, and come with mee.

2

Loe, Winters past, and comne the Spring,
The Raine is gone, the Weather cleare:
The Season woes the Birds to sing,
And on the Earth the flowers appeare.
The Turtle croweth in our Field:
Young Figs the Fig-tree down doth weigh,
The blossom'd Vines a sauour yeeld;
Rise Loue, my Faire, and come away.

3

My Doue, that art obscured, where
The Rockes darke staires doe thee infold:
Thy voyce, (thy sweet voice) let me hear,
And Thee, (that louely sight) behold.
40

Those Foxes-Cubs, the Vines that mar,
Goe take vs whilst the Grapes be young:
My Loues am I, and mine's my Deare,
Who feeds the Lilly-flowers among.

4

While breake of Day, when shades depart,
Returne my Well-beloued-One;
Eu'n as a Roe, or lusty Hart,
That doth on Bether Mountaines runne,
For him, that to my soule is deare,
Within my bed, by night I sought;
I sought, but him I found not there:
Thus therfore with my selfe I thought;

5

I'le rise, and round the Cittie wend,
Through Lanes, and open waies I'le goe,
That I my Soules-delight may finde:
So, there I sought, and mist him too.
The Cittie watch me lighted on;
Then askt I for my soules delight:
And somewhat past them being gone,
My soules-beloued found I straight.

6

Whom, there in my embrace I caught;
And him forsooke I not, till hee
Into my Mothers house I brought;
Her Chamber who conceiued mee.
You Daughters of Ierusalem,
Stirre not (by field bred Harts and Roes;
For you I doe adiure by them)
Nor wake my Loue till shee dispose.
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