Canticle of Canticles 8

¹ O that you were like a brother to me, that nursed at my mother's breast! If I met you outside, I would kiss you, and none would despise me.

² I would lead you and bring you into the house of my mother, and into the chamber of her that conceived me. I would give you spiced wine to drink, the juice of my pomegranates.

³ O that his left hand were under my head, and that his right hand embraced me!

⁴ I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, that you stir not up nor awaken love until it please.

⁵ Who is that coming up from the wilderness, leaning upon her beloved? Under the apple tree I awakened you. There your mother was in travail with you, there she who bore you was in travail.

⁶ Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm; for love is strong as death, jealousy is cruel as the grave. Its flashes are flashes of fire, a most vehement flame.

⁷ Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it. If a man offered for love all the wealth of his house, it would be utterly scorned.

⁸ We have a little sister, and she has no breasts. What shall we do for our sister, on the day when she is spoken for?

⁹ If she is a wall, we will build upon her a battlement of silver; but if she is a door, we will enclose her with boards of cedar.

¹⁰ I was a wall, and my breasts were like towers; then I was in his eyes as one who brings peace.

¹¹ Solomon had a vineyard at Baal-hamon; he let out the vineyard to keepers; each one was to bring for its fruit a thousand pieces of silver.

¹² My vineyard, my very own, is for myself; you, O Solomon, may have the thousand, and the keepers of the fruit two hundred.

¹³ O you who dwell in the gardens, my companions are listening for your voice; let me hear it.

¹⁴ Make haste, my beloved, and be like a gazelle or a young stag upon the mountains of spices.