The winter has yielded, the blustering winds have ceased,
And a serene breeze accompanies the airy days.
The cruel shadow has receded, and Titan the sun having returned
In his Eastern chariot, brings forth the day with his light-flowing axle.
Therefore, come, return through the hills combed by a nimble leap,
Visit again the roof of your Spouse.
As the stag hastens its pace through the wilderness and the fields,
So you, sweet Friend, make haste to return.
Am I mistaken? Or does his voice reach our ears?
I am not mistaken: the generous voice of the King resounds.
Hurrah, you come at last, and you do not delay the joys,
O Spouse, nor do you forsake the wretched one! Hurrah, you come!

The Eulogy of the Spiritual Spouse, Canticles 4.

So elegant is your form, my Friend,
So great is the grace of your lovely body,
That nothing more beautiful can exist anywhere.
Like the grace of a Chaonian referring to Dodona, sacred to Jupiter and famous for doves dove
That adorns the eyes: such is the splendor
That shines back to you from your starry eyes.
So beautifully your hair radiates,
Softly flowing down from your drooping crown,
That not even white wool shines so brightly,
Which the goats of Gilead provide.
So beautifully the border of your teeth