The man answers the woman's invitation: he has come to his garden, my sister, my bride; he has gathered his myrrh with his spice, eaten his honeycomb with his honey and drunk his wine with his milk (v. 1). A voice says: eat, friends, drink, and be drunk with love. Some attribute this invitation to the poet and others to the friends at the wedding.
The woman tells that she was sleeping, but her heart was awake. She heard the voice of her beloved knocking: open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my perfect one, for my head is wet with dew (v. 2). She answered with excuses: she had put off her garment and washed her feet (v. 3). The man put his hand through the latch opening, and her heart was thrilled within her (v. 4). She rose to open to him, and her hands dripped with myrrh on the handles of the bolt (v. 5). But her beloved had turned and gone; her soul failed when he spoke, she sought him and did not find him, she called him and he gave no answer (v. 6). The watchmen found her as they went about the city, they beat her, they bruised her and they took away her veil (v. 7). She charges the daughters of Jerusalem that, if they find her beloved, they tell him she is sick with love (v. 8).
The daughters of Jerusalem ask what her beloved is more than another beloved, that she should charge them so (v. 9). She describes him: radiant and ruddy, distinguished among ten thousand (v. 10); his head is the finest gold, his eyes like doves beside streams of water, his cheeks like beds of spices, his lips like lilies dripping liquid myrrh, his arms rods of gold, his body polished ivory and his legs alabaster columns (vv. 11-15). His mouth is most sweet, and he is altogether desirable. This is my beloved and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem (v. 16).