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    I was ready to let him come in.
My hands were covered with myrrh,
    my fingers with liquid myrrh,
    as I grasped the handle of the door.
I opened the door for my lover,
    but he had already gone.
How I wanted to hear his voice!
I looked for him, but couldn't find him;
    I called to him, but heard no answer.

The sentries patrolling the city found me;
    they struck me and bruised me;
    the guards at the city wall tore off my cape.

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