Darby's English Translation

Song of Solomon 7

The Song of Songs, Which is Solomon's

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Chapter 8

1


 

  Oh that thou wert as my brother, That sucked the breasts of my mother! Should I find thee without, I would kiss thee; And they would not despise me.  

 

 

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2


 

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

 

 

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3


 

  His left hand would be under my head, And his right hand embrace me.  

 

 

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4


 

  I charge you, daughters of Jerusalem, ... Why should ye stir up, why awake [my] love, till he please?  

 

 

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5


 

  Who is this that cometh up from the wilderness, Leaning upon her beloved? I awoke thee under the apple-tree: There thy mother brought thee forth; There she brought thee forth [that] bore thee.  

 

 

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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, Flames of Jah.  

 

 

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7


 

  Many waters cannot quench love, Neither do the floods drown it: Even if a man gave all the substance of his house for love, It would utterly be contemned.  

 

 

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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? --  

 

 

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9


 

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

 

 

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10


 

  I am a wall, and my breasts like towers; Then was I in his eyes as one that findeth peace.  

 

 

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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 silver-pieces.  

 

 

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12


 

  My vineyard, which is mine, is before me: The thousand [silver-pieces] be to thee, Solomon; And to the keepers of its fruit, two hundred.  

 

 

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13


 

  Thou that dwellest in the gardens, The companions hearken to thy voice: Let me hear [it].  

 

 

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14


 

  Haste, my beloved, And be thou like a gazelle or a young hart Upon the mountains of spices.  

 

 

--

Isaiah 1

 

 

 

 

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