December 21st, 2003, Thursday of the third week of Advent.

A reading from the Song of Songs.

Hark, my lover.

Here he comes, springing across the mountains, leaping across the hills.

My lover is like a gazelle or a young stag.

Here he stands behind our wall, gazing through the windows, peering through the lattices.

My lover speaks.

He says to me, Arise, my beloved, my dove, my beautiful one, and come.

For see the winter is past, the rains are over and gone,

the flowers appear on the earth, the time of pruning the vines has come, and the song of the dove

is heard in our land. The fig tree puts forth its figs, and the vines in bloom give forth fragrance. Arise, my beloved,

my beautiful one, and come. Oh, my dove in the cliffs of the rock, and the secret recesses of the

cliff, let me see you, let me hear your voice, for your voice is sweet, and you are lovely.

The word of the Lord.

The response is, The response is,

Exalt, you just in the Lord. Sing to him a new song. Give thanks to the Lord on the harp, with a ten-string

liar, chant his praises. Sing to him a new song. Pluck the strings skillfully, with shouts

of gladness. Exalt you just in the Lord. Sing to him a new song. But the plan of the Lord stands forever, the design of his heart,

through all generations. Blessed the nation whose God is the Lord, the people he has chosen for his own

inheritance. Exalt you just in the Lord. Sing to him a new song.

Our soul waits for the Lord, who is our help and our shield.

For in him our hearts rejoice.

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