Song 8
1
Who shall give thee to me for my brother, sucking the breasts of my mother, that I
may find thee without, and kiss thee, and now no man may despise me?
2
I will take hold of thee, and bring thee Into my mother's house: there thou shalt
teach me, and I will give thee a cup of spiced wine and new wine of my pomegranates.
3
His left hand under my head, and his right hand shall embrace me.
4
I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, that you stir not up, nor awake my love till
she please.
5
Who is this that cometh up from the desert, flowing with delights, leaning upon her
beloved? Under the apple tree I raised thee up: there thy mother was corrupted, there
she was defloured that bore thee.
6
Put me as a seal upon thy heart, as a seal upon thy arm, for love is strong as death,
jealousy as hard as hell, the lamps thereof are fire and flames.
7
Many waters cannot quench charity, neither can the floods drown it: if a man should
give all the substance of his house for love, he shall despise it as nothing.
8
Our sister is little, and hath no breasts. What shall we do to our sister in the day
when she is to be spoken to?
9
If she be a wall: let us build upon it bulwarks of silver: if she be a door, let us
join it together with boards or cedar.
10
I am a wall: and my breasts are as a tower since I am become in his presence as one
finding peace.
11
The peaceable had a vineyard, in that which hath people: he let out the same to keepers,
every man bringeth for the fruit thereof a thousand pieces of silver.
12
My vineyard is before me. A thousand are for thee, the peaceable, and two hundred
for them that keep the fruit thereof.
13
Thou that dwellest in the gardens, the friends hearken: make me hear thy voice.
14
Flee away, O my beloved, and be like to the roe, and to the young hart upon the mountains
of aromatical spices.