Gardens of the Church

I have come to my garden, my sister, my bride; I have gathered my myrrh with my spice. I have eaten my honeycomb with my honey; I have drunk my wine with my milk. Eat, O friends, and drink; drink freely, O beloved.

My beloved has gone down to his garden, to the beds of spices, to pasture his flock in the gardens and to gather lilies.

I went down to the walnut grove to see the blossoms of the valley, to see if the vines were budding or the pomegranates were in bloom.