As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit was sweet to my taste.

O my dove, who are in the clefts of the rock, in the covert of the steep place, let me see thy countenance; let me hear thy voice. For sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely.

I said, I will climb up into the palm tree. I will take hold of the branches of it. Let thy breasts be as clusters of the vine, and the smell of thy breath like apples,