³ Draw me: we will run after thee to the odour of thy ointments. The king hath brought me into his storerooms: we will be glad and rejoice in thee, remembering thy breasts more than wine: the righteous love thee.

¹³ A cluster of cypress my love is to me, in the vineyards of Engaddi.

³ As the apple tree among the trees of the woods, so is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow, whom I desired: and his fruit was sweet to my palate.

⁴ He brought me into the cellar of wine, he set in order charity in me.