Fathers

Song of Solomon 4

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Behold, you are beautiful, my love. Behold, you are beautiful. Your eyes are like doves behind your veil. Your hair is as a flock of goats, that descend from Mount Gilead. Your teeth are like a newly shorn flock, which have come up from the washing, where every one of them has twins. None is bereaved among them. Your lips are like scarlet thread. Your mouth is lovely. Your temples are like a piece of a pomegranate behind your veil. Your neck is like David’s tower built for an armory, on which a thousand shields hang, all the shields of the mighty men. Your two breasts are like two fawns that are twins of a roe, which feed among the lilies. Until the day is cool, and the shadows flee away, I will go to the mountain of myrrh, to the hill of frankincense. You are all beautiful, my love. There is no spot in you. Come with me from Lebanon, my bride, with me from Lebanon. Look from the top of Amana, from the top of Senir and Hermon, from the lions’ dens, from the mountains of the leopards. You have ravished my heart, my sister, my bride. You have ravished my heart with one of your eyes, with one chain of your neck. How beautiful is your love, my sister, my bride! How much better is your love than wine, the fragrance of your perfumes than all kinds of spices! Your lips, my bride, drip like the honeycomb. Honey and milk are under your tongue. The smell of your garments is like the smell of Lebanon. My sister, my bride, is a locked up garden; a locked up spring, a sealed fountain. Your shoots are an orchard of pomegranates, with precious fruits, henna with spikenard plants, spikenard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon, with every kind of incense tree; myrrh and aloes, with all the best spices, a fountain of gardens, a well of living waters, flowing streams from Lebanon. Awake, north wind, and come, you south! Blow on my garden, that its spices may flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden, and taste his precious fruits.

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What the Fathers say

Song of Solomon 4:10

Western Saints

Ambrose of Milan

Christ, then, feeds his church with these sacraments, by means of which the substance of the soul is strengthened, and seeing the continual progress of her grace, he rightly says to her, "How comely are your breasts, my sister, my spouse, how comely they are made by wine, and the smell of your garments is above all spices. A dropping honeycomb are your lips, my spouse, honey and milk are under your tongue, and the smell of your garments is as the smell of Lebanon. …

On the Mysteries 9:55 ↗

Bede

And the scent of your ointments, etc. The scent of the Church's spiritual ointments is the fame of the gifts; of which it is written: Their voice has gone out unto all the earth, and their words to the ends of the world (Psalm XVIII). And when Mary Magdalene anointed the Lord with nard as a type of the holy Church, it is written: And the house was filled with the fragrance of the ointment (Matthew XXVI); where it is mystically signified that with the devout services of the Church, which are performed in honor of her Redeemer, the …

Commentary on the Song of Songs ↗

Robert of Tombelaine

What we said above concerning the breasts of the bridegroom, we consider can also be understood here when he speaks of the bride. 'And the fragrance of your ointments is above all spices.' By ointments, indeed, are understood those very virtues which arise from charity. For even the reprobate sometimes possess spices with which they give off fragrance, because they possess certain virtues and perform good works; but because they live without charity, nothing they do is pleasing in the sight of God. …

Commentary on the Song of Songs, Chapter 4 ↗