Song of Songs 8
The love of the Church to Christ.
Song of Songs 8:1 Oh that thou wert as my brother, That sucked the breasts of my mother! Should I find thee without, I would kiss thee; And they would not despise me. Song of Songs 8:2 I would lead thee, bring thee into my mother's house; Thou wouldest instruct me: I would cause thee to drink of spiced wine, Of the juice of my pomegranate. Song of Songs 8:3 His left hand would be under my head, And his right hand embrace me. Song of Songs 8:4 I charge you, daughters of Jerusalem, ... Why should ye stir up, why awake [my] love, till he please? Song of Songs 8:5 Who is this that cometh up from the wilderness, Leaning upon her beloved? I awoke thee under the apple-tree: There thy mother brought thee forth; There she brought thee forth [that] bore thee.
The vehemency of love.
Song of Songs 8:6 Set me as a seal upon thy heart, As a seal upon thine arm: For love is strong as death; Jealousy is cruel as Sheol: The flashes thereof are flashes of fire, Flames of Jah. Song of Songs 8:7 Many waters cannot quench love, Neither do the floods drown it: Even if a man gave all the substance of his house for love, It would utterly be contemned.
The calling of the Gentiles.
Song of Songs 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? Song of Songs 8:9 If she be a wall, We will build upon her a turret of silver; And if she be a door, We will enclose her with boards of cedar. Song of Songs 8:10 I am a wall, and my breasts like towers; Then was I in his eyes as one that findeth peace. Song of Songs 8:11 Solomon had a vineyard at Baal-hamon: He let out the vineyard unto keepers; Every one for the fruit thereof was to bring a thousand silver-pieces. Song of Songs 8:12 My vineyard, which is mine, is before me: The thousand [silver-pieces] be to thee, Solomon; And to the keepers of its fruit, two hundred. Song of Songs 8:13 Thou that dwellest in the gardens, The companions hearken to thy voice: Let me hear [it].
The Church prayeth for Christ's coming.
Song of Songs 8:14 Haste, my beloved, And be thou like a gazelle or a young hart Upon the mountains of spices.