Song of Songs 5:1, 5, 13

I have come into my garden, my sister, my bride; I have gathered my myrrh with my spice. I have eaten my honeycomb and my honey; I have drunk my wine and my milk. Eat, friends, and drink; drink your fill of love.

I arose to open for my beloved, and my hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with flowing myrrh, on the handles of the bolt.

His cheeks are like beds of spice yielding perfume. His lips are like lilies dripping with myrrh.

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