1 Oh that thou wert as my brother, That sucked the breasts of my mother! When I should find thee without, I would kiss thee; Yea, and none would despise me.
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.
3 His left hand should be under my head, And his right hand should embrace me.
4 I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, That ye stir not up, nor awake my love, Until he please.
5 Who is this that cometh up from the wilderness, Leaning upon her beloved? Under the apple-tree I awakened thee: There thy mother was in travail with thee, There was she in travail that brought thee forth.