1 I would that thou, O my kinsman, wert he that sucked the breasts of my mother; when I found thee without, I would kiss thee: yea, they should not despise me. 2 I would take thee, I would bring thee into my mother’s house, and into the chamber of her that conceived me; I would make thee 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, ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the virtues of the field, that ye stir not up, nor awake my love, until he please.
5 Who is this that comes up all white, leaning on her kinsman? I raised thee up under an apple-tree; there thy mother brought thee forth; there she that bore thee brought thee forth.
6 Set me as a seal upon thy heart, as a seal upon thine 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.