Song of Songs 4:11

Coverdale Bible (1535)

Thy lippes (o my spouse) droppe as the hony combe, yee mylck and hony is vnder thy tonge, and the smell of thy garmentes is like the smell of frankynsense.

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Referenced Verses

  • Gen 27:27 : 27 So he came nye, and he kyssed him. Then smelled he the sauoure of his clothes, and blessed him, and sayde: Beholde, the smell of my sonne is as ye smell of the felde, which ye LORDE hath blessed.
  • Song 5:1 : 1 Come in to my garden o my sister, my spouse: I haue gathered my Myrre wt my spyce. I wil eate my hony and my hony cobe, I wil drynke my wyne & my mylk Eate o (ye frendes) drynke and be mery, o ye beloued.
  • Song 5:13 : 13 His chekes are like a garden bedd, where in the Apotecaryes plate all maner of swete thinges: His lippes droppe as the floures of the most pryncipall Myrre,
  • Song 7:9 : 9 and thy throte like the best wyne. This shalbe pure & cleare for my loue, his lippes and teth shal haue their pleasure.
  • Isa 7:15 : 15 Butter and hony shal he eate, yt he maye knowe the euel, and chose ye good.
  • Hos 14:2 : 2 Take these wordes with you, when ye turne to the LORDE, & saye vnto him: O forgeue vs all oure synnes, receaue vs graciously, & then wil we offre ye bullockes of oure lyppes vnto the.
  • Hos 14:6-7 : 6 His braunches shulde sprede out abrode, & be as fayre as the olyue tre, & smel as Libanus. 7 They that dwel vnder his shadowe, shulde come agayne, & growe vp as the corne, & florish as the vyne: he shulde haue as good a name, as the wyne of Libanus.
  • Heb 13:15 : 15 Let vs therfore by him offre allwayes vnto God the sacrifice of prayse: that is to saye, the frute of those lippes which confesse his name.
  • Ps 19:10 : 10 More pleasunt are they then golde, yee then moch fyne golde: sweter then hony & the hony combe.
  • Ps 45:8 : 8 Thou hast loued rightuousnesse, & hated iniquite: wherfore God (which is thy God) hath anoynted the with the oyle of gladnes aboue thy felowes.
  • Ps 71:14-15 : 14 Let me go in (o LORDE God) & I wil make mencion of thy power and rightuousnesse only. 15 Thou (o God) hast lerned me fro my youth vp vntill now, therfore wil I tell of yi wonderous workes.
  • Ps 71:23-24 : 23 My tonge talketh of thy rightuousnesse all the daye longe, 24 for they are confounded & brought vnto shame, yt sought to do me euel.
  • Prov 5:3 : 3 For the lippes of an harlot are a droppinge hony combe, and hir throte is softer then oyle.
  • Prov 16:24 : 24 Fayre wordes are an hony combe, a refreshinge of ye mynde, & health of ye bones.
  • Prov 24:13-14 : 13 My sonne, thou eatest hony & ye swete hony cobe, because it is good & swete in thy mouth. 14 Euen so shall ye knowlege of wysdome be vnto yi soule, as soone as thou hast gotte it. And there is good hope, yee yi hope shal not be in vayne.
  • Song 4:3 : 3 Thy lippes are like a rose coloured rybende, thy wordes are louely: thy chekes are like a pece of a pomgranate, besydes that which lyed hyd within.
  • Song 4:10 : 10 O how fayre and louely are thy brestes, my sister, my spouse? Thy brestes are more pleasaunt then wyne, and the smell of thy oyntmentes passeth all spices.

Similar Verses (AI)

These verses are found using AI-powered semantic similarity based on meaning and context. Results may occasionally include unexpected connections.

  • Song 4:1-10
    10 verses
    87%

    1O how fayre art thou (my loue) how fayre art thou? thou hast doues eyes besyde that which lyeth hid within.

    2Thy hayrie lockes are like a flocke of shepe that be clypped, which go first vp from the washinge place: where euery one beareth two twyns, and not one vnfrutefull amoge them.

    3Thy lippes are like a rose coloured rybende, thy wordes are louely: thy chekes are like a pece of a pomgranate, besydes that which lyed hyd within.

    4Thy neck is like the tower of Dauid buylded with bulworkes, wher vpon there hage a thousande sheldes, yee all the weapes of the giautes.

    5Thy two brestes are like two twyns of yonge roes, which fede amoge the lilies.

    6O that I might go to the mountayne of Myrre, and to the hyll of frankynsense: till the daye breake, and till the shadowes be past awaye.

    7Thou art all fayre (o my loue) & no spott is there in the.

    8Come to me from Libanus (o my spouse) come to me from Libanus: come soone the next waye from the toppe of Amana, from the toppe of Sanir and Hermon, from the Lyons dennes and from the mountaynes of ye leopardes.

    9Thou hast wouded my hert (o my sister, my spouse) thou hast wounded my hert, with one of thine eyes, and with one cheyne of thy neck.

    10O how fayre and louely are thy brestes, my sister, my spouse? Thy brestes are more pleasaunt then wyne, and the smell of thy oyntmentes passeth all spices.

  • Song 4:12-13
    2 verses
    81%

    12Thou art a well kepte garden (o my sister, my spouse) thou art a well kepte water sprynge, a sealed well.

    13The frutes that sproute in the, are like a very paradyse of pogranates wt swete frutes:

  • Song 5:13
    81%

    13His chekes are like a garden bedd, where in the Apotecaryes plate all maner of swete thinges: His lippes droppe as the floures of the most pryncipall Myrre,

  • Song 7:6-10
    5 verses
    81%

    6O how fayre and louely art thou (my derlynge) in pleasures?

    7Thy stature is like a date tre, and thy brestes like the grapes. I sayde:

    8I wil clymme vp into the date tre, and take holde of his braunches. Thy brestes also shalbe as the vyne grapes, the smell of thy nostrels like the smell of apples,

    9and thy throte like the best wyne. This shalbe pure & cleare for my loue, his lippes and teth shal haue their pleasure.

    10There wil I turne me vnto my loue, and he shal turne him vnto me.

  • Song 5:1-2
    2 verses
    79%

    1Come in to my garden o my sister, my spouse: I haue gathered my Myrre wt my spyce. I wil eate my hony and my hony cobe, I wil drynke my wyne & my mylk Eate o (ye frendes) drynke and be mery, o ye beloued.

    2As I was a slepe, & my hert wakynge, I herde the voyce of my beloued, wha he knocked. Open to me (sayde he) o my sister, my loue, my doue, my derlinge: for my heade is full of dew, and ye lockes of my hayre are full of the night droppes.

  • Song 4:15-16
    2 verses
    79%

    15Thou art a well of gardens, a well of lyuynge waters, which renne downe from Libanus.

    16Vp thou northwynde, come thou southwynde, and blowe vpo my garde, that the smell therof maye be caried on euery syde: Yee that my beloued maye come in to my garden, & eate of the frutes and apples that growe therin.

  • Song 1:2-4
    3 verses
    79%

    2O that thy mouth wolde geue me a kysse, for yi brestes are more pleasaunt then wyne,

    3& that because of the good and pleasaunt sauoure. Thy name is a swete smellynge oyntment, therfore do the maydens loue the:

    4yee that same moueth me also to renne after the. The kynge hath brought me into his preuy chambre. We wil be glad & reioyce in the, we thynke more of thy brestes then of wyne: well is them that loue the.

  • Song 5:16
    77%

    16His throte is swete, yee he is alltogether louely. Soch one is my loue (o ye doughters of Ierusalem) soch one is my loue.

  • Song 1:12-16
    5 verses
    76%

    12When the kynge sytteth at the table, he shal smell my Nardus:

    13for a bodell of Myrre (o my beloued) lyeth betwixte my brestes.

    14A cluster of grapes of Cypers, or of the vynyardes of Engaddi, art thou vnto me, O my beloued.

    15O how fayre art thou (my loue) how fayre art thou? thou hast doues eyes.

    16O how fayre art thou (my beloued) how well fauored art thou? Oure bed is decte with floures,

  • Prov 5:3
    76%

    3For the lippes of an harlot are a droppinge hony combe, and hir throte is softer then oyle.

  • Song 7:2-4
    3 verses
    73%

    2Thy nauell is like a rounde goblett, which is neuer without drynke: Thy wombe is like an heape of wheate, sett aboute with lilies:

    3Thy two brestes are like two twyns of yonge roes:

    4Thy neck is as it were a tower of yuery: Thyne eyes are like ye water poles in Hesebon, besyde the porte of Bathrabbim: Thy nose is like the tower of Libanus, which loketh towarde Damascus:

  • Song 2:10
    73%

    10My beloued answered & sayde vnto me: O stode vp my loue, my doue, my beutyfull, & come:

  • Song 6:2-5
    4 verses
    73%

    2My loue is gone downe in to his garden, vnto ye swete smellinge beddes, that he maye refresh himself in the garden, and gather floures.

    3My loue is myne, and I am his, which fedeth amonge the lilies.

    4Thou art pleasaunt (o my loue) euen as louelynesse itself, thou art fayre as Ierusalem, glorious as an armye of men with their baners

    5(Turne awaye thine eyes fro me, for they make me to proude) Thy hayrie lockes are like a flocke of goates vpon ye mount of Galaad.

  • Song 8:14
    73%

    14O get the awaye (my loue) as a roo or a yonge hert vnto the swete smellinge moutaynes.

  • Prov 5:19
    73%

    19Louynge is the hynde, and frendly is the Roo: let her brestes alwaye satisfie the, and holde the euer content with hir loue.

  • Song 2:3
    72%

    3Like as the aple tre amonge the trees of the wodd, so is my beloued amonge the sonnes. My delite is to sitt vnder his shadowe, for his frute is swete vnto my throte.

  • Song 1:9-10
    2 verses
    72%

    9There wil I tary for the (my loue) wt myne hoost & with my charettes, which shalbe no fewer then Pharaos.

    10Then shal thy chekes & thy neck be made fayre, & hanged wt spages & goodly iewels:

  • Song 2:16
    72%

    16My loue is myne, and I am his, (which fedeth amoge the lylies)

  • Song 2:13-14
    2 verses
    72%

    13The fyge tre bryngeth forth hir fyges, the vynes beare blossoms, and haue a good smell. O stode vp my loue, my beutyfull, and come

    14(my doue) out of the caues of the rockes, out of the holes of the wall: O let me se thy countenaunce and heare thy voyce, for swete is thy voyce and fayre is thy face.

  • Song 3:6
    71%

    6Who is this, that commeth out of ye wyldernesse like pilers of smoke, as it were a smell of Myrre, frankencense and all maner spyces of the Apotecary?

  • Song 7:12
    71%

    12In the mornynge wil we ryse by tymes, and go se the vynyarde: yf it be spronge forth, yf the grapes be growne, & yf the pomgranates be shott out. There wil I geue the my brestes: