The Song of a Wife, which is Mrs. Solomon’s.
Let him praise me with the words of his mouth; for his flattery is sweeter than wine and his kisses are rarer than orchids.
Lo, my Beloved, thy hair is as stubble, and in the morning it standeth aloft, as a shorn wheat field.
Thy cheek is as a Turkish towel, which caresseth mine.
Thy temples are a shining light, which resembleth a silver polish advertisement.
Thou wearest a derby hat. Thy breath is sweet with cloves.
How fascinating art thou in pajamas, when thy face is covered with shaving lather!
How beautiful are thy feet.
Behold, thou art a collection of habits. Yea, unto these thou art more constant than the family cat.
Whatsoever thou hast done before, that shalt thou do forever and in the same way.