From the same lips the honied phrases fall That still are bitter from cascades of gall. 1903, Ambrose Bierce, Shapes of Clay:
One of the pair Is a woman fair, With parted, smiling lips; For her each hour A honied flower, And she the bee that sips. 1913, John L. Stoddard, Poems:
It must be buttered, or honied, or toasted, or soaked in milk, or dipped in gravy. 1836, William A. Alcott, The Young Mother: