Song of Solomon 8:8-14

⁸Our sister is little, and hath no breasts. What shall we do to our sister in the day when she is to be spoken to?

⁹If she be a wall: let us build upon it bulwarks of silver: if she be a door, let us join it together with boards or cedar.

¹⁰I am a wall: and my breasts are as a tower since I am become in his presence as one finding peace.

¹¹The peaceable had a vineyard, in that which hath people: he let out the same to keepers, every man bringeth for the fruit thereof a thousand pieces of silver.

¹²My vineyard is before me. A thousand are for thee, the peaceable, and two hundred for them that keep the fruit thereof.

¹³Thou that dwellest in the gardens, the friends hearken: make me hear thy voice.

¹⁴Flee away, O my beloved, and be like to the roe, and to the young hart upon the mountains of aromatical spices.