Song of Songs.
Chapter 8.
I wish that you were like my brother, who nursed at my mother's breasts. Then whenever I met you outside, I could kiss you, and no one would despise me. 
I would lead you and bring you into my mother's house— she who taught me. I would give you spiced wine to drink and some of the juice of my pomegranates. 
His left hand is under my head and his right hand embraces me. 
I want you to swear, daughters of Jerusalem, that you will not interrupt our lovemaking until it is over. 
Who is this who is coming up from the wilderness, leaning on her beloved? The woman speaking to the man I awakened you under the apricot tree; there your mother conceived you; there she gave birth to you, she delivered you. 
Set me as a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm, for love is as strong as death. Passionate devotion is as unrelenting as Sheol; its flames burst out; it is a blazing flame, a flame hotter than any other fire. 
Surging waters cannot quench love, nor can floods sweep it away. If a man gave all the possessions in his house for love, the offer would utterly be despised. 
We have a little sister, and her breasts have not yet grown. What can we do for our sister on the day when she will be promised in marriage? 
If she is a wall, we will build on her a tower of silver. If she is a door, we will adorn her with boards of cedar. 
I was a wall, but my breasts are now like fortress towers; so I am in his eyes as one who brings peace. 
Solomon had a vineyard at Baal Hamon. He gave the vineyard to those who would maintain it. Each one was to bring a thousand shekels of silver for its fruit. 
My vineyard, my very own, is before me; the thousand shekels are for you, Solomon, and the two hundred shekels are for those who maintain its fruit. 
You who live in the gardens, my companions are listening for your voice; let me hear it. 
Hurry, my beloved, and be like a gazelle or a young stag on the mountains of spices. 
