SONG OF SONGS.
Chapter 8.
Who may grant to me thee, my brother, sucking the teats of my mother, that I find thee alone without-forth, and that I kiss thee, and no man despise me then? 
I shall take thee, and I shall lead thee into the house of my mother, and into the bed-closet of my mother; there thou shalt teach me, and I shall give to thee drink of wine made sweet, and of the must of my pomegranates. 
His left hand shall be under mine head, and his right hand shall embrace me. 
Ye daughters of Jerusalem, I charge you greatly, that ye raise not, neither make the dearworthy spousess to awake, till she will. 
Who is this spousess, that goeth up from desert, and floweth in delights, and resteth on her darling? I raised thee under a pomegranate tree; there thy mother was corrupted, there thy mother was defouled. 
Set thou me as a signet on thine heart, as a signet on thine arm; for love is strong as death, envy is hard as hell; the lamps thereof bethe lamps of fire, and of flames. 
Many waters be not able to quench charity, neither floods shall oppress it. Though a man give all the chattel of his house for love, he shall despise, or reckon it, as nought. 
Our sister is little, and hath no teats; what shall we do to our sister, in the day when she shall be spoken to? 
If it is a wall, build we thereon silveren towers; if it is a door, join we together with boards of cedar. 
I am a wall, and my teats be as a tower; since I am made as finding peace before him. 
A vinery was to the peaceable; in that city, that hath peoples, he betook it to keepers; a man bringeth a thousand pieces of silver for the fruit thereof. 
The vinery is before me; a thousand be of thee peaceable, and two hundred to them that keep the fruits thereof. 
Friends hearken to thee, that dwellest in orchards; make thou me to hear thy voice. 
My darling, fly thou; be thou made like a capret, and a calf of harts, on the hills of sweet smelling spices. 
