Canticle of Canticles 8

DOUAI-RHEIMS	NEW AMERICAN BIBLE
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?	1 Oh, that you were my brother,
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.	2 I would lead you, bring you in
3 His left hand under my head, and his right hand shall embrace me.	3 His left hand is under my head
4 I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, that you stir not up, nor awake my love till she please.	4 I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem,
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.	5 Who is this coming up from the desert,
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.	6 Set me as a seal on your heart,
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.	7 Deep waters cannot quench love,
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?	8 "Our sister is little
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.	9 If she is a wall,
10 I am a wall: and my breasts are as a tower since I am become in his presence as one finding peace.	10 I am a wall,
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.	11 Solomon had a vineyard at Baal-hamon;
12 My vineyard is before me. A thousand are for thee, the peaceable, and two hundred for them that keep the fruit thereof.	12 My vineyard is at my own disposal;
13 Thou that dwellest in the gardens, the friends hearken: make me hear thy voice.	13 O garden-dweller,
14 Flee away, O my beloved, and be like to the roe, and to the young hart upon the mountains of aromatical spices.	14 Be swift, my lover,