10. 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!
11. Thy lips, O my spouse, drip as the honeycomb; honey and milk are under thy tongue, and the smell of thy garments is like the smell of Lebanon.
12. A closed garden is my sister, my spouse; a spring shut up, a fountain sealed.
13. Thy newly budded plants are a paradise of pomegranates, with pleasant fruits; camphire, {Heb. ransom}, with spikenard,
14. spikenard and saffron; calamus and cinnamon, with all trees of frankincense; myrrh and aloes, with all the chief spices:
15. A fountain of gardens, a well of living waters, that flow from Lebanon.
16. Awake, O north wind; and come, thou south; blow upon my garden that the aroma of its spices may flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden, and eat his sweet fruits.