My beloved is mine, and I am his, he feedeth among the lilies. Until the day break, and the shadows flee away, turn, my beloved, and be thou like a roe or a young heart upon the mountains of Bitha. Song of Solomon chapter 2 verse 16 and 17

Surely, if there be a happy verse in the Bible, it is this. My beloved is mine, and I am his. So peaceful, so full of assurance, so overrunning with happiness and contentment is it that it might well have been written by the same hand which penned the 23rd Psalm.

Yet, though the prospect is exceeding fair and lovely Earth cannot show its superior. It is not entirely a sunlit landscape. There is a cloud in the sky which casts a shadow over the scene. Listen until the daybreak and the shadows flee away. There is a word, too, about the mountains of pitha, or the mountains of division. And to our love, anything like division is bitterness.

Beloved, this may be your present state of mind. You do not doubt your salvation. You know that Christ is yours, but you're not feasting with him. You understand your vital interest in him so that you have no shadow of a doubt of your being his and of his being yours. But still his left hand is not under your head, nor doth his right hand embrace you. A shade of sadness is cast over your heart, perhaps by affliction, certainly by the temporary absence of your Lord.

So even while exclaiming, I am his, you are forced to take to your knees and to pray until the daybreak and the shadows flee away. Turn, my beloved. Where is he? asks the soul. And the answer comes, he feedeth among the lilies. If we would find Christ, we must get into communion with his people. We must come to the ordinances with his saints. Oh, for an evening glimpse of him. Oh, to sup with him tonight.