The Beloved's Hesitation and Regret

Song of Solomon 5:2-8

I sleep, but my heart is awake. A sound! My beloved is knocking: “Open to me, my sister, my darling, my dove, my flawless one. My head is drenched with dew, my hair with the dampness of the night.”

I have taken off my robe— must I put it back on? I have washed my feet— must I soil them again?

My beloved put his hand to the latch; my heart pounded for him.

I rose up to open for my beloved. My hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with flowing myrrh on the handles of the bolt.

I opened for my beloved, but he had turned and gone. My heart sank at his departure. I sought him, but did not find him. I called, but he did not answer.

I encountered the watchmen on their rounds of the city. They beat me and bruised me; they took away my cloak, those guardians of the walls.

O daughters of Jerusalem, I adjure you, if you find my beloved, tell him I am sick with love.

The Beloved's Hesitation and Regret

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