Song of Songs 4:11-16

¹¹Your lips, my bride, drip honey; honey and milk are under your tongue; the fragrance of your garments is like the fragrance of Lebanon.

¹²My sister, my bride is a garden locked up, a garden locked up, a spring that is sealed.

¹³Your branches are a grove of pomegranate trees with choice fruits, and of henna and nard plants,

¹⁴Nard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon with all kinds of spices, myrrh and aloes with all the finest spices.

¹⁵You are a garden spring, a well of fresh water, streams flowing down from Lebanon.

¹⁶Awake, north wind; come, south wind; blow on my garden so that its spices may give off their fragrance. May my beloved come into his garden and eat some of its choice fruit.