Your lips are dropping honey; honey and milk are under your tongue; and the smell of your clothing is like the smell of Lebanon.

I have come into my garden, my sister, my bride; to take my myrrh with my spice; my wax with my honey; my wine with my milk. Take meat, O friends; take wine, yes, be overcome with love.

His eyes are as the eyes of doves by the water streams, washed with milk, and rightly placed.

Oh that you were my brother, who took milk from my mother's breasts! When I came to you in the street, I would give you kisses; yes, I would not be looked down on.