From The International Library of Masterpieces, Literature, Art, & Rare Manuscripts, Volume XXX, Editor-in-Chief: Harry Thurston Peck; The International Bibliophile Society, New York; 1901; p. 11316.
[MY brother] hath come forth [from mine house];
[He careth not for] my love;
My heart standeth still within me.
Behold, honeyed cakes in my mouth.
They are turned into salt;
Even must, that sweet thing,
In my mouth is as the gall of a bird!
The breath of thy nostrils alone
Is that which maketh my heart live.
I found thee! Amen grant thee unto me,
Eternally and for ever!
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THE voice of the wild goose crieth,
For she hath taken her bait;
[But] thy love restraineth me,
I cannot loose it.
So I must gather my net together.
What then shall I say to my mother,
To whom I come daily
Laden with wild-fowl?
I have not laid my net to-day,
For thy love hath seized me.