To the odor of the good ointments thy name shall be poured forth an ointment; for this, the maidens loved thee.

The king yet in his divan, my spikenard gave its odor.

The fig tree ripened its unripe figs, and the vines are in blossom; they gave an odor. Rise up, my friend, my beautiful one, and go for thyself.

How beautiful were thy breasts, my sister, O bride! how good were thy breasts above wine, and the odor of thine ointments above all spices.

Thy lips will drop honey droppings, O bride: honey and milk under thy tongue, and the odor of thy garments as the odor of Lebanon.

I said, I will go up upon the palm tree, I will hold fast upon its branches: and now thy breasts shall be as clusters of the vine, and the odor of thy nose as apples.

The mandrakes gave an odor, and upon our entrances all precious things, new also old, my beloved, I laid up for thee.