Tuesday in Easter Week

My Best-beloved spake to me.
And unto me did say, —
"Rise up, my love, my fair one.
Rise up, and come away:

"For lo! the Winter now is o'er.
The rain is past and gone,
The flowers on the earth appear.
Reviving one by one;

"The time of singing birds is come,
The turtle's voice is heard,
The fig-tree with her leaves is green,
The vine's sweet smell is stirr'd;

"The tender grape is on the bough.
The bird upon the spray:
Arise, my love, my fair one!
Arise, and come away I"

My love is mine, and I am His,
Like a young hart or roe
On Bether's mountains He doth feed.
Up where the lilies blow;

On Bether's mountains He doth feed,
Turn, my Beloved, and stay.
Until the Day Eternal break.
And shadows flee away.