2 I slept, but my heart was awake. Listen! my beloved is knocking. “Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my perfect one; for my head is wet with dew, my locks with the drops of the night.” 3 I had put off my garment; how could I put it on again? I had bathed my feet; how could I soil them? 4 My beloved thrust his hand into the opening, and my inmost being yearned for him. 5 I arose to open to my beloved, and my hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with liquid myrrh, upon the handles of the bolt. 6 I opened to my beloved, but my beloved had turned and was gone. My soul failed me when he spoke. I sought him, but did not find him; I called him, but he gave no answer. 7 Making their rounds in the city the sentinels found me; they beat me, they wounded me, they took away my mantle, those sentinels of the walls. 8 I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if you find my beloved, tell him this: I am faint with love. 9 What is your beloved more than ano...