Sng 8:1I would that thou, O my kinsman, wert he that sucked the breasts of my mother; when I found thee without, I would kiss thee; yea, they should not despise me.
Sng 8:2I would take thee, I would bring thee into my mother's house, and into the chamber of her that conceived me; I would make thee to drink of spiced wine, of the juice of my pomegranates.
Sng 8:5Who is this that comes up all white, leaning on her kinsman? I raised thee up under an apple-tree; there thy mother brought thee forth; there she that bore thee brought thee forth.
Sng 8:6Set me as a seal upon thy heart, as a seal upon thine arm; for love is strong as death; jealousy is cruel as the grave, her shafts are shafts of fire, even the flames thereof.
Sng 8:7Much water will not be able to quench love, and rivers shall not drown it; if a man would give all his substance for love, men would utterly despise it.
