Song of Songs 8:4

Coverdale Bible (1535)

I charge you (o ye daughters of Ierusale) that ye wake not vp my loue ner touch her, tyll she be content herself.

Additional Resources

Referenced Verses

  • Song 2:7 : 7 I charge you (o ye doughters of Ierusalem (by the Roes & hyndes of the felde, yt ye wake not vp my loue ner touch her, till she be content herself.
  • Song 3:5 : 5 I charge you (o ye doughters of Ierusale) by the Roes and hyndes of the felde, that ye wake not vp my loue ner touch her, till she be content herself.

Similar Verses (AI)

These verses are found using AI-powered semantic similarity based on meaning and context. Results may occasionally include unexpected connections.

  • Song 2:4-8
    5 verses
    94%

    4He bryngeth me in to his wyne seller, and loueth me specially well.

    5Refresh me wt grapes, coforte me with apples, for I am sick of loue.

    6His left hade lyeth vnder my heade, & his right hande enbraceth me.

    7I charge you (o ye doughters of Ierusalem (by the Roes & hyndes of the felde, yt ye wake not vp my loue ner touch her, till she be content herself.

    8Me thynke I heare the voyce of my beloued: lo, there commeth he hoppinge vpon ye mountaynes, and leapinge ouer the litle hilles.

  • Song 3:3-6
    4 verses
    93%

    3The watchmen that go aboute ye cite, founde me. Sawe ye not him, whom my soule loueth?

    4So whan I was a litle past them, I foude him whom my soule loueth. I haue gotten holde vpon him, and wyl not let him go, vntill I brynge him into my mothers house, and in to hir chambre that bare me.

    5I charge you (o ye doughters of Ierusale) by the Roes and hyndes of the felde, that ye wake not vp my loue ner touch her, till she be content herself.

    6Who is this, that commeth out of ye wyldernesse like pilers of smoke, as it were a smell of Myrre, frankencense and all maner spyces of the Apotecary?

  • Song 5:7-9
    3 verses
    83%

    7So the watchmen that wente aboute the cite, foude me, smote me, and wounded me: Yee they that kepte the walles, toke awaye my garmet fro me.

    8I charge you therfore (o ye doughters of Ierusalem) yf ye fynde my beloued, that ye tell him, how that I am sick for loue.

    9Who is thy loue aboue other louers, O thou fayrest amonge wemen? Or, what can thy loue do, more then other louers, that thou chargest vs so straitly?

  • Song 8:2-3
    2 verses
    82%

    2yf I toke the and brought the in to my mothers house: that thou mightest teach me, and that I might geue the drynke of spyced wyne and of the swete sappe of my pomgranates.

    3His left hande lyeth vnder my heade, & his right hande embraceth me.

  • Song 8:5-6
    2 verses
    80%

    5What is she this, that cometh vp from the wildernes, and leaneth vpon hir loue? I am the same that waked the vp amonge the aple trees, where thy mother beare ye, where yi mother brought the in to the worlde.

    6O set me as a seale vpo thine hert, and as a seale vpon thine arme: for loue is mightie as the death, & gelousy as the hell. Hir coales are of fyre, and a very flamme of the LORDE:

  • Song 5:1-2
    2 verses
    77%

    1Come in to my garden o my sister, my spouse: I haue gathered my Myrre wt my spyce. I wil eate my hony and my hony cobe, I wil drynke my wyne & my mylk Eate o (ye frendes) drynke and be mery, o ye beloued.

    2As I was a slepe, & my hert wakynge, I herde the voyce of my beloued, wha he knocked. Open to me (sayde he) o my sister, my loue, my doue, my derlinge: for my heade is full of dew, and ye lockes of my hayre are full of the night droppes.

  • Song 2:10
    77%

    10My beloued answered & sayde vnto me: O stode vp my loue, my doue, my beutyfull, & come:

  • Song 4:5-6
    2 verses
    77%

    5Thy two brestes are like two twyns of yonge roes, which fede amoge the lilies.

    6O that I might go to the mountayne of Myrre, and to the hyll of frankynsense: till the daye breake, and till the shadowes be past awaye.

  • Song 7:10-12
    3 verses
    76%

    10There wil I turne me vnto my loue, and he shal turne him vnto me.

    11O come on my loue, let vs go forth in to the felde, and take oure lodginge in the vyllages.

    12In the mornynge wil we ryse by tymes, and go se the vynyarde: yf it be spronge forth, yf the grapes be growne, & yf the pomgranates be shott out. There wil I geue the my brestes:

  • Song 4:15-16
    2 verses
    76%

    15Thou art a well of gardens, a well of lyuynge waters, which renne downe from Libanus.

    16Vp thou northwynde, come thou southwynde, and blowe vpo my garde, that the smell therof maye be caried on euery syde: Yee that my beloued maye come in to my garden, & eate of the frutes and apples that growe therin.

  • Song 8:13-14
    2 verses
    75%

    13Thou that dwellest in the gardens, O let me heare thy voyce, that my companyons maye herken to the same.

    14O get the awaye (my loue) as a roo or a yonge hert vnto the swete smellinge moutaynes.

  • Song 6:4
    75%

    4Thou art pleasaunt (o my loue) euen as louelynesse itself, thou art fayre as Ierusalem, glorious as an armye of men with their baners

  • Song 1:7-9
    3 verses
    75%

    7Tell me (o thou whom my soule loueth) where thou fedest, where thou restest at the noone daye: lest I go wronge, and come vnto the flockes of thy companyons,

    8Yf thou knowe not yi self (o thou fayrest amoge women) tha go yi waye forth after ye fotesteppes of the shepe, as though thou woldest fede yi goates besyde ye shepherdes tentes.

    9There wil I tary for the (my loue) wt myne hoost & with my charettes, which shalbe no fewer then Pharaos.

  • Song 1:4
    74%

    4yee that same moueth me also to renne after the. The kynge hath brought me into his preuy chambre. We wil be glad & reioyce in the, we thynke more of thy brestes then of wyne: well is them that loue the.

  • Song 4:8-10
    3 verses
    74%

    8Come to me from Libanus (o my spouse) come to me from Libanus: come soone the next waye from the toppe of Amana, from the toppe of Sanir and Hermon, from the Lyons dennes and from the mountaynes of ye leopardes.

    9Thou hast wouded my hert (o my sister, my spouse) thou hast wounded my hert, with one of thine eyes, and with one cheyne of thy neck.

    10O how fayre and louely are thy brestes, my sister, my spouse? Thy brestes are more pleasaunt then wyne, and the smell of thy oyntmentes passeth all spices.

  • Song 1:13-14
    2 verses
    74%

    13for a bodell of Myrre (o my beloued) lyeth betwixte my brestes.

    14A cluster of grapes of Cypers, or of the vynyardes of Engaddi, art thou vnto me, O my beloued.

  • Song 2:13-14
    2 verses
    74%

    13The fyge tre bryngeth forth hir fyges, the vynes beare blossoms, and haue a good smell. O stode vp my loue, my beutyfull, and come

    14(my doue) out of the caues of the rockes, out of the holes of the wall: O let me se thy countenaunce and heare thy voyce, for swete is thy voyce and fayre is thy face.

  • Song 7:6
    74%

    6O how fayre and louely art thou (my derlynge) in pleasures?

  • Prov 7:18
    74%

    18Come, let vs lye together, & take oure pleasure till it be daye light.

  • Song 4:12
    73%

    12Thou art a well kepte garden (o my sister, my spouse) thou art a well kepte water sprynge, a sealed well.

  • Song 2:16-17
    2 verses
    73%

    16My loue is myne, and I am his, (which fedeth amoge the lylies)

    17vntill the daye breake, and till the shadowes be gone. Come agayne preuely (o my beloued) like as a Roo or a yonge harte vnto the mountaynes.

  • Song 6:1
    73%

    1Whither is thy loue gone the (o thou fayrest amonge weme) whither is thy loue departed, that we maye seke him with the?

  • Song 5:16
    73%

    16His throte is swete, yee he is alltogether louely. Soch one is my loue (o ye doughters of Ierusalem) soch one is my loue.

  • Prov 5:19-20
    2 verses
    73%

    19Louynge is the hynde, and frendly is the Roo: let her brestes alwaye satisfie the, and holde the euer content with hir loue.

    20My sonne, why wilt thou haue pleasure in an harlot, and embrace the bosome of another woma?

  • Song 1:2
    72%

    2O that thy mouth wolde geue me a kysse, for yi brestes are more pleasaunt then wyne,