What shall I say to thee, my friend, of my beloved…

of my of him whom my soul loveth?

I am my beloved’s and he is mine: we are one and

undivided in love.

He put about my neck the wreath of flowers that was round his own neck;

and put, gladness in my heart.

He made me like himself, and himself he made like me.

For very shame such things I like to keep to myself; but that I expose

my feelings to thee is because thou art more than my life to me.

My joy is in his love and my soul is always his.