A bundle of myrrh is my beloved to me, That lies all night between my breasts.

A Troubled Night

The Shulamite

By night on my bed I sought the one I love; I sought him, but I did not find him.

They all hold swords, Being expert in war. Every man has his sword on his thigh Because of fear in the night.

The Shulamite’s Troubled Evening

The Shulamite

I sleep, but my heart is awake; It is the voice of my beloved! He knocks, saying, “Open for me, my sister, my love, My dove, my perfect one; For my head is covered with dew, My locks with the drops of the night.”