Song of Songs.
Chapter 8.
I would that you, O my kinsman, were he that sucked the breasts of my mother; when I found you without, I would kiss you; yes, they should not despise me. 
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. 
His left hand should be under my head, and his right hand should embrace me. 
I have charged you, you⌃ daughters of Jerusalem, by the virtues of the field, that you⌃ stir not up, nor awake my love, until he please. 
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. 
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. 
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. 
Our sister is little, and has no breasts; what shall we do for our sister, in the day wherein she shall be spoken for? 
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. 
I am a wall, and my breasts are as towers; I was in their eyes as one that found peace. 
Solomon had a vineyard in Beelamon; he let his vineyard to keepers; every one was to bring for its fruit a thousand pieces of silver. 
My vineyard, even mine, is before me; Solomon shall have a thousand, and they that keep its fruit two hundred. 
You that dwell in the gardens, the companions listen to your voice: make me hear it. 
Away, my kinsman, and be like a doe or a fawn on the mountains of spices. 
