The voice of my Beloved spake
And sweetly said to me,
“Arise, my love, the world forsake,
And come away with me.
For lo! the winter now is past,
The chilling winds are o'er,
The sweet springtime has come at last,
The sun shines out once more.

“The flowers now are sending out
The breath of sweet perfume,
The hillsides echo with a shout,
The birds their songs resume.
The turtle dove lifts up her voice
To sing her Maker's praise;
Come now, and let your heart rejoice,
Your voice in rapture raise.

“The fig tree putteth forth her figs,
The vines with grapes abound,
The buds adorn the tender twigs,
The hills with grass are crowned.
Arise, my love, and come away,
My fair one, hear my voice;
In darkness now no longer stay,
In holy light rejoice.”

'Tis my desire to dwell below
With Him, my Husband, Friend;
And when from this vain world I go,
To His abode ascend.
There, there, amid that holy throng,
I hope to find a place,
While endless ages roll along,
To rest in His embrace.