Who is this that cometh out of the wilderness like pillars of smoke, 
perfumed with myrrh and frankincense, 
with all powders of the merchant? 

Tell me, O thou whom my soul loveth, 
where thou feedest, where thou makest thy flock to rest at noon: 
for why should I be as one that turneth aside by the flocks of thy companions? 

Until the day break, and the shadows flee away, 
I will get me to the mountain of myrrh, and to the hill of frankincense. 
Thou art all fair, my love; there is no spot in thee.