And so Christ feeds his church with these sacraments, by which the soul’s substance is made strong. And seeing that her grace’s boundaries are extending, he says to her, How beautiful are your breasts, my sister, my bride! How beautiful they are made from the wine, and the scent of your clothes surpasses all spices. Your lips are a dripping honeycomb, my bride, honey and milk lie under your tongue, and the scent of your clothes is like the scent of Lebanon. An enclosed garden, my sister, my bride, an enclosed garden, a sealed fountain [Song of Songs 4.10–12]. Which means that the mystery should remain sealed in you, so that it is not violated by the deeds of an evil life, by infidelity against your chastity, and so that it is not made known to those for whom it is not suitable, nor spread among the faithless by babbling chatter.
His igitur sacramentis pascit Ecclesiam suam Christus, quibus animae firmatur substantia: meritoque videns profectum ejus gratiae continentem, dicit ad eam: Quam decora facta sunt ubera tua, soror mea sponsa! Quam decora facta sunt a vino: et odor vestimentorum tuorum super omnia aromata! Favus distillans labia tua, o sponsa, mel et lac sub lingua tua, et odor vestimentorum tuorum sicut odor Libani. Hortus conclusus, soror mea sponsa, hortus conclusus, fons signatus. Quo significat signatum debere apud te manere mysterium, ne violetur operibus malae vitae, atque adulterio castitatis, ne divulgetur quibus non convenit, ne garrula loquacitate dispergatur in perfidos.
—Ambrose, De mysteriis 55
Uh, sure, dude. You need a glass of water?