Song of Songs 8

CAB(i) 1 I would that you, O my kinsman, were he that nursed at the breasts of my mother; when I found you without, I would kiss you; yes, they should not despise me. 2 I would take you, I would bring you into my mother's house, and into the chamber of her that conceived me; I would make you to drink of spiced wine, of the juice of my pomegranates. 3 His left hand should be under my head, and his right hand should embrace me. 4 I have charged you, you daughters of Jerusalem, by the virtues of the field, that you do not stir up, nor awaken my love, until he please. 5 Who is this that comes up all white, leaning on her kinsman? I raised you up under an apple tree; there your mother brought you forth; there she that bore you brought you forth. 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, her shafts are shafts of fire, even the flames thereof. 7 Much water will not be able to quench love, and rivers shall not drown it; if a man would give all his substance for love, men would utterly despise it. 8 Our sister is little, and has no breasts; what shall we do for our sister, in the day wherein she shall be spoken for? 9 If she is a wall, let us build upon her silver bulwarks; and if she is a door, let us carve for her cedar panels. 10 I am a wall, and my breasts are as towers; I was in their eyes as one that found peace. 11 Solomon had a vineyard in Baal Hamon; he leased his vineyard to keepers; everyone was to bring for its fruit a thousand pieces of silver. 12 My vineyard, even mine, is before me; Solomon shall have a thousand, and they that keep its fruit two hundred. 13 You that dwell in the gardens, the companions hearken to your voice: make me hear it. 14 Make haste, my kinsman, and be like a doe or a fawn on the mountains of spices.