Song of Solomon, Chapter 8

(1) O that thou wert as my brother, that sucked the breasts of my mother! when I should find thee without, I would kiss thee; yea, I should not be despised. (2) 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. (3) His left hand should be under my head, and his right hand should embrace me. (4) I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, that ye stir not up, nor awake my love, until he please. (5) Who is this that cometh up from the wilderness, leaning upon her beloved? I raised thee up under the apple tree: there thy mother brought thee forth: there she brought thee forth that bare thee. (6) Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm: for love is strong as death; jealousy is cruel as the grave: the coals thereof are coals of fire, which hath a most vehement flame. (7) Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it: if a man would give all the substance of his house for love, it would utterly be contemned. (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? (9) If she be a wall, we will build upon her a palace of silver: and if she be a door, we will inclose her with boards of cedar. (10) I am a wall, and my breasts like towers: then was I in his eyes as one that found favour. (11) Solomon had a vineyard at Baalhamon; he let out the vineyard unto keepers; every one for the fruit thereof was to bring a thousand pieces of silver. (12) My vineyard, which is mine, is before me: thou, O Solomon, must have a thousand, and those that keep the fruit thereof two hundred. (13) Thou that dwellest in the gardens, the companions hearken to thy voice: cause me to hear it. (14) Make haste, my beloved, and be thou like to a roe or to a young hart upon the mountains of spices.

A Random Prayer...

Prayer To Our Lady, Help Of Christians

Most Holy Virgin Mary, Help of Christian, how sweet it is to come to your feet imploring your perpetual help. If earthly mothers cease not to remember their children, how can you, the most loving of all mothers forget me? Grant then to me, I implore you, your perpetual help in all my necessities, in every sorrow, and especially in all my temptations. I ask for your unceasing help for all who are now suffering. Help the weak, cure the sick, convert sinners. Grant through your intercessions many vocations to the religious life. Obtain for us, O Mary, Help of Christians, that having invoked you on earth we may love and eternally thank you in heaven. By St. John Bosco

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