The Historical Roots of Pop Music

Whenever I listen to pop music, I get this feeling of deva ju, this uncanny suspicion that I have heard something of that sort somewhere else, though in a somewhat different form. Read, for example, these lyrics from a contemporary song by Britney Spears : You were my summer breeze, my winter sun, my springtime soul, my autumn touch of gold. Yeah. And you were my sky, my rain, the earth in which my love goes strong. The smile of my heart and the breath of my soul.

Now read this : I come to my garden, my sister, my bride, I gather my myrrh with my spice, I eat my honeycomb with my honey, I drink my wine with my milk. Eat, O friends, and drink: drink deeply, O lovers! I slept, but my heart was awake. Hark! my beloved is knocking.' Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my perfect one; for my head is wet with dew, my locks with the drops of the night.' I had put off my garment, how could I put it on? I had bathed my feet, how could I soil them? My beloved put his hand to the latch, and my heart was thrilled within me.

And now read this : You were with me, but I was not with you. You called, you shouted, and you broke through my deafness. You breathed your fragrance on me; I drew in breath and now I pant for you. I have tasted you, now I hunger and thirst for more. You touched me, and I burn for your peace.

Can you guess when these lines were written?