Rain is like ambrosia, as the world cannot exist without rain.

So saying, she turned, and all refulgent showed / her roseate neck, and heavenly fragrance sweet / was breathed from her ambrosial hair. Down flowed / her loosened raiment, streaming to her feet, / and by her walk the Goddess shone complete.

Mrs. Pendexter said little; she merely smiled with her lovely eyes and lips, and ate chicken and fruit cake and preserves with such exquisite grace that she conveyed the impression of dining on ambrosia and honeydew.

Tom tried to steal the gods' nectar and ambrosia.