Wycliffe Bible

Song of Songs 8

The love of the Church to Christ.

Song of Songs 8:1 Who mai grante to me thee, my brother, soukynge the tetis of my modir, that Y fynde thee aloone without forth, and that Y kisse thee, and no man dispise me thanne? Song of Songs 8:2 Y schal take thee, and Y schal lede thee in to the hous of my modir, and in to the closet of my modir; there thou schalt teche me, and Y schal yyue to thee drink of wyn maad swete, and of the must of my pumgranatis. Song of Songs 8:3 His lefthond vndur myn heed, and his riythond schal biclippe me. Song of Songs 8:4 Ye douytris of Jerusalem, Y charge you greetli, that ye reise not, nether make the dereworthe spousesse to awake, til sche wole. Song of Songs 8:5 Who is this spousesse, that stieth fro desert, and flowith in delices, and restith on hir derlynge? Y reiside thee vndur a pumgranate tre; there thi modir was corrupt, there thi modir was defoulid.

The vehemency of love.

Song of Songs 8:6 Set thou me as a signet on thin herte, as a signet on thin arm; for loue is strong as deth, enuy is hard as helle; the laumpis therof ben laumpis of fier, and of flawmes. Song of Songs 8:7 Many watris moun not quenche charite, nether floodis schulen oppresse it. Thouy a man yyue al the catel of his hous for loue, he schal dispise that catel as nouyt.

The calling of the Gentiles.

Song of Songs 8:8 Oure sistir is litil, and hath no tetys; what schulen we do to oure sistir, in the dai whanne sche schal be spokun to? Song of Songs 8:9 If it is a wal, bilde we theronne siluerne touris; if it is a dore, ioyne we it togidere with tablis of cedre. Song of Songs 8:10 I am a wal, and my tetis ben as a tour; sithen Y am maad as fyndynge pees bifore hym. Song of Songs 8:11 A vyner was to the pesible; in that citee, that hath puplis, he bitook it to keperis; a man bryngith a thousynde platis of siluer for the fruyt therof. Song of Songs 8:12 The vyner is bifore me; a thousynde ben of thee pesible, and two hundrid to hem that kepen the fruytis therof. Song of Songs 8:13 Frendis herkene thee, that dwellist in orchertis; make thou me to here thi vois.

The Church prayeth for Christ's coming.

Song of Songs 8:14 My derlyng, fle thou; be thou maad lijk a capret, and a calf of hertis, on the hillis of swete smellynge spices.

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