Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy love is better than wine.

Who is this coming up from the wilderness, Like palm-trees of smoke, Perfumed with myrrh and frankincense, From every powder of the merchant?

How fair is thy love, my sister, my spouse! how much better is thy love than wine! and the smell of thine ointments than all spices!

{How is your beloved better than another lover}, O most beautiful among women? {How is your beloved better than another lover}, that you adjure us thus?

Put me as a sign on your heart, as a sign on your arm; love is strong as death, and wrath bitter as the underworld: its coals are coals of fire; violent are its flames.