As apples of gold in pictures of silver, is a word spoken in season.

The vine is dried up, and the fig-tree languisheth; the pomegranate-tree, the palm also and the apple-tree; all the trees of the field are withered, yea, joy is withered away from the children of men.

Keep me as the apple of the eye, hide me under the shadow of thy wings,

As the apple-tree among the trees of the wood, So is my beloved among the sons: In his shadow have I rapture and sit down; And his fruit is sweet to my taste.

I said, I will go up to the palm-tree, I will take hold of the boughs thereof; And thy breasts shall indeed be like clusters of the vine, And the fragrance of thy nose like apples,

Who is this that cometh up from the wilderness, Leaning upon her beloved? I awoke thee under the apple-tree: There thy mother brought thee forth; There she brought thee forth that bore thee.