14  O ^dmy dove, in the clefts of the rock,

in the crannies of the cliff,

let me see your face,

^elet me hear your voice,

for your voice is sweet,

and your face is lovely.

15  Catch the foxes¹ for us,

the little foxes

that spoil the vineyards,

for our vineyards are in blossom.”

16  ^fMy beloved is mine, and I am his;

he ^ggrazes² among the lilies.

17  ^hUntil the day breathes

and the shadows flee,

turn, my beloved, be like a gazelle

or a young stag on cleft mountains.³