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“I have come into my garden, my sister, my spouse, I gathered my myrrh with my spice. I ate my honeycomb with my honey, I drank my wine with my milk: eat, O friends, drink, and make you merry, O well-beloved.”

“I sleep, but my heart wakes. It is the voice of my well-beloved who knocks, saying, ‘Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled. For my head is full of dew, and my locks with the drops of the night.’

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