Song Of Songs Chapter 8 American Standard-ASV1901

Song Of Songs 8:1

Oh that thou wert as my brother, That sucked the breasts of my mother! `When' I should find thee without, I would kiss thee; Yea, and none would despise me.

Song Of Songs 8:2

I would lead thee, `and' bring thee into my mother's house, Who would instruct me; I would cause thee to drink of spiced wine, Of the juice of my pomegranate.

Song Of Songs 8:3

His left hand `should be' under my head, And his right hand should embrace me.

Song Of Songs 8:4

I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, That ye stir not up, nor awake `my' love, Until he please.

Song Of Songs 8:5

Who is this that cometh up from the wilderness, Leaning upon her beloved? Under the apple-tree I awakened thee: There thy mother was in travail with thee, There was she in travail that brought thee forth.

Song Of Songs 8:6

Set me as a seal upon thy heart, As a seal upon thine arm: For love is strong as death; Jealousy is cruel as Sheol; The flashes thereof are flashes of fire, A very flame of Jehovah.

Song Of Songs 8:7

Many waters cannot quench love, Neither can floods drown it: If a man would give all the substance of his house for love, He would utterly be contemned.

Song Of Songs 8:8

We 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?

Song Of Songs 8:9

If she be a wall, We will build upon her a turret of silver: And if she be a door, We will inclose her with boards of cedar.

Song Of Songs 8:10

I am a wall, and my breasts like the towers `thereof' Then was I in his eyes as one that found peace.

Song Of Songs 8:11

Solomon had a vineyard at Baal-hamon; He let out the vineyard unto keepers; Every one for the fruit thereof was to bring a thousand `pieces' of silver.

Song Of Songs 8:12

My vineyard, which is mine, is before me: Thou, O Solomon, shalt have the thousand, And those that keep the fruit thereof two hundred.

Song Of Songs 8:13

Thou that dwellest in the gardens, The companions hearken for thy voice: Cause me to hear it.

Song Of Songs 8:14

Make haste, my beloved, And be thou like to a roe or to a young hart Upon the mountains of spices.