His cheeks are as a bed of spices, raised beds of sweet plants; His lips lilies, dropping liquid myrrh.

His mouth is most sweet: Yea, he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, yea, this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.

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.

My dove, in the clefts of the rock, In the covert of the precipice, Let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy voice; For sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely.

Thy lips, my spouse, drop as the honeycomb; Honey and milk are under thy tongue; And the smell of thy garments is like the smell of Lebanon.