I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find my beloved, that ye tell him, that I am sick of love.
I am black, but comely, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, as the tents of Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon.
Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples: for I am sick of love.
I charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and by the hinds of the field, that ye stir not up, nor awake my love, till he please.
I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, that ye stir not up, nor awake my love, until he please.
Now I beseech you, brethren, for the Lord Jesus Christ's sake, and for the love of the Spirit, that ye strive together with me in your prayers to God for me;
Confess your faults one to another, and pray one for another, that ye may be healed. The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much.