Song of Songs 5:2-6

I was sleeping, but my heart kept vigil;
I heard my lover knocking:
"Open to me, my sister, my beloved,
my dove, my perfect one!
For my head is wet with dew,
my locks with the moisture of the night."

I have taken off my robe,
am I then to put it on?
I have bathed my feet,
am I then to soil them?

My lover put his hand through the opening;
my heart trembled within me,
and I grew faint when he spoke.

I rose to open to my lover,
with my hands dripping myrrh:
With my fingers dripping choice myrrh
upon the fittings of the lock.

I opened to my lover
-but my lover had departed, gone.
I sought him but I did not find him;
I called to him but he did not answer me.