King James Version › Song of Solomon › 8

Song of Solomon

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1 O that thou wert as my broth­er, that sucked the breasts of my moth­er! when I should find thee with­out, I would kiss thee; yea, I should not be de­spised.
2 I would lead thee, and bring thee into my mother's house, who would in­struct me: I would cause thee to drink of spiced wine of the juice of my pomegranate.
3 His left hand should be un­der my head, and his right hand should em­brace me.
4 I charge you, O daugh­ters of Jerusalem, that ye stir not up, nor awake my love, un­til he please.
5 Who is this that cometh up from the wilder­ness, lean­ing upon her beloved? I raised thee up un­der the ap­ple tree: there thy moth­er brought thee forth: there she brought thee forth that bare thee.
6 Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm: for love is strong as death; jeal­ousy is cru­el as the grave: the coals there­of are coals of fire, which hath a most ve­he­ment flame.
7 Many wa­ters can­not quench love, nei­ther can the floods drown it: if a man would give all the sub­stance of his house for love, it would ut­ter­ly be con­temned.
8 We have a lit­tle sis­ter, and she hath no breasts: what shall we do for our sis­ter in the day when she shall be spo­ken for?
9 If she be a wall, we will build upon her a palace of sil­ver: and if she be a door, we will in­close her with boards of cedar.
10 I am a wall, and my breasts like tow­ers: then was I in his eyes as one that found favour.
11 Solomon had a vine­yard at Baal­ha­mon; he let out the vine­yard unto keep­ers; ev­ery one for the fruit there­of was to bring a thou­sand pieces of sil­ver.
12 My vine­yard, which is mine, is be­fore me: thou, O Solomon, ­must have a thou­sand, and those that keep the fruit there­of two hun­dred.
13 Thou that dwellest in the gar­dens, the com­pan­ions hear­ken to thy voice: cause me to hear it.
14 Make haste, my beloved, and be thou like to a roe or to a young hart upon the moun­tains of spices.