8:1 O that thou wert as my brother, that was nourished at the breasts of my mother! when I should find thee without, I would kiss thee; yes, I should not be despised.
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.
8:3 His left hand should be under my head, and his right hand should embrace me.
8:5 Who is this that cometh up from the wilderness, leaning upon her beloved? I raised thee up under the apple-tree: there thy mother brought thee forth: there she brought thee forth that bore thee.
8:7 Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floodsdrown it: if a man would give all the substance of his house for love, it would utterly be contemned.
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?
8:9 If she is a wall, we will build upon her a palace of silver: and if she is a door, we will inclose her with boards of cedar.
8:10 I am a wall, and my breasts like towers: then was I in his eyes as one that found favor.
