Who is This

Who is this that cometh out of the wilderness like pillars of smoke,

perfumed with myrrh and frankincense,

with all powders of the merchant?

Tell me, O thou whom my soul loveth,

where thou feedest, where thou makest thy flock to rest at noon:

for why should I be as one that turneth aside by the flocks of thy companions?

Until the day break, and the shadows flee away,

I will get me to the mountain of myrrh, and to the hill of frankincense.

Thou art all fair, my love; there is no spot in thee.