I sought Him, but I could not find Him; I called Him, but He gave me no answer. The watchmen that go about the city found me, They smote me, they wounded me; The keepers of the walls took away my mantle from me. Her first relapse had been one of inexperience; if a second relapse had been brought about by inadvertence she should at least have been ready and prompt when summoned to obey. It is not a little thing to fall into the habit of being tardy in obedience, even in the case of a believer: in the case of the unbeliever the final issue of disobedience is inexpressibly awful:-- Turn you at My reproof: Behold, I will pour out My SPIRIT unto you, I will make known My words unto you. Because I have called, and ye refused; I have stretched out My hand, and no man regarded; . . . I also will laugh in the day of your calamity. . . . Then shall they call upon Me, but I will not answer; They shall seek Me diligently, but they shall not find Me. The backsliding of the bride, though painful, was not final; for it was followed by true repentance. She went forth into the darkness and sought Him; she called, but He responded not, and the watchmen finding her, both smote and wounded her. They appear to have appreciated the gravity of her declension more correctly than she had done. Believers may be blinded to their own inconsistencies; others, however, note them; and the higher the position with regard to our LORD the more surely will any failure be visited with reproach. Wounded, dishonoured, unsuccessful in her search, and almost in despair, the bride turns to the daughters of Jerusalem; and recounting the story of her sorrows, adjures _them_ to tell her Beloved that she is not unfaithful or unmindful of Him. I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find my Beloved, That ye tell Him, that I am sick of love. The reply of the daughters of Jerusalem shows very clearly that the sorrow-stricken bride, wandering in the dark, is not recognized as the bride of the KING, though her personal beauty does not escape notice. What is thy Beloved more than another beloved, O thou fairest among women? What is thy Beloved more than another beloved, That thou dost so adjure us? This question, implying that her Beloved was no more than any other, stirs her soul to its deepest depths; and, forgetting herself, she pours out from the fulness of her heart a soul-ravishing description of the glory and beauty of her LORD. My Beloved is white and ruddy, The chiefest among ten thousand. (see verses 10-16, concluding with) His mouth is most sweet: yea, He is altogether lovely. This is my Beloved, and this is my Friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.