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Swear to me, young women of Jerusalem,
    by the gazelles or by the does of the field,
that you won’t awaken or arouse love
    before its proper time![a]

The voice of my beloved!
Look! He’s coming,
    leaping over the mountains,
        bounding over the hills.
My beloved is like a gazelle or a young stag.
Look, there he stands behind our wall,
    looking through the windows,
        gazing through the lattice.

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Footnotes

  1. Song of Solomon 2:7 Lit. until it pleases