Song of Songs 8:14

Oh that thou wouldest rend the heavens, that thou wouldest come down!—As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God. My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God: when shall I come and appear before God?—Make haste, my beloved, and be thou like to a roe or to a young hart upon the mountains of spices.

Our conversation is in heaven; from whence also we look for the Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ.—Looking for that blessed hope, and the glorious appearing of the great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ.—God our Saviour, and Lord Jesus Christ, which is our hope.—Whom having not seen, ye love.

Make haste, my beloved, and be thou like to a roe or to a young hart upon the mountains of spices.

We ourselves groan within ourselves, waiting for the adoption, to wit, the redemption of our body.