How Beautiful Are Thy Feet — Song of Solomon 8:1–5

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.

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.

His left hand should be under my head, And his right hand should embrace me.

I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, That ye stir not up, nor awake my love, Until he please.

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.