Song of Songs 8
1O 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.
5Who 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.
6Set 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.
8We 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?
9If 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.
10I am a wall, and my breasts like towers: then was I in his eyes as one that found favour.
13Thou that dwellest in the gardens, the companions hearken to thy voice: cause me to hear it.
14Make haste, my beloved, and be thou like to a roe or to a young hart upon the mountains of spices.