Song of Songs 8:1-6

¹How I wish you were like a brother to me, one who nursed at my mother's breasts! Then if I met you on the street I could kiss you and no one would tell me off.

²Then I could take you home to my mother's house, where she used to teach me. I would give you spiced wine to drink from the juice of my pomegranate.

³He supports my head with his left hand, and holds me close with his right.

⁴Women of Jerusalem, swear to me that you won't disturb our love until the right time.

⁵Who is this coming in from the wilderness holding her love close to her? Woman: I woke you up under the apple tree where your mother conceived you, and where she gave birth to you.

⁶Stamp my name as a seal on your heart, like a seal on your arm, for love is strong as death, passion as unyielding as the grave—its arrows flash like fire, a blazing flame of the Lord.