...my wine with my milk : eat, О friends., drink, yea drink abundantly, О beloved, v. 2. 1 fleep, bnt my heart waketh : it is the voice of my beloved that knocketh, faying, Open to me, my fifter, my love, my dove, my undefined : for my head is filled with dew, and...

...I"—How my heart melts. to hear thy powerful voice t " My fora, give me thine heart.. Open to me, my love, my dove, my undefiled ; for my head is filled with the dew, and iny locks with the drops of the night. I will betrothe thee unto me for ever ;. yea, I...

...fleep, bat my heart waketh : h is the voice of my Beloved that knockcih, faying, Open to me, my filler, my love, my dove, my undefiled : for my head is filled with dew., and my leeks with the drops of the night. / ifa. alii. ii, 19. Hear, ye deaf, and look, ye blind, that ye...

...deep, but my htart waketh: it is the voice of my beloved that knocketh, faying, Open to me, my filter, my love, my dove, my undefiled : for my head is filled...with dew, and my locks with the drops of the night. 4 Ifa. xlii. 18, 19. Hear, ye deaf, and look, ye blind, that ye may fee. "Who is blind, but my fervam...

...knocking ? — Another call is that, Song v. 2. " Open to me, my filler, my fpoufe, my love, my dove ; for my head is filled with dew, and my locks with the drops of the night." I have fuffered the midnight-fhower and ftorm of divine wrath for you, it fell on my head ; I have...

...beloved, [who was] knocking : ' Open to me, my sister, my consort, * My dove, my accomplished one ; ' For my head is filled with dew, ' And my locks with the drops of the night. S L 130 CH. V. 3 ' I have put off my vest, how shall I put * it on ? ' I have washed my feet, how shall...

...the houfe were not his own, becaufe here he has to do with fickle creatures : Song, v. 2. " I fleep, but my he,art waketh ; it is the voice of my Beloved that knocketh, faying, Open to me, my fifter, my love, my dove, my undefiled ; for my head is filled with dew, and...

...him, now provoke To bitter frenzy and untender rage. And still at intervals, the more his breast * My head is filled with dew, and my locks with the drops of night. SOLOMON'S SONG. To wring with torture, all the blandishments, The rosy hours, the dreams of...

...the valley, and to see whether the vine flourished, and the pomegranates budded. Chap, v. 2, 3 — I sleep, but my heart waketh : it is the voice of my beloved ythat knocketh, saying, open to me, my sistxr, my love, my dove, my undefiled: for my head is lilled...

...blood : he cometh not in the thunders to alarm my soul ; but gently knocketh at the door of my heart, saying, " Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled ; though thou hast wandered from me, yet thou art still my own ; I have loved thee with an everlasting...