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I charge you, O ye virgins of Jerusalem, by the roes and by the hinds of the field that ye not awake nor stir up love, until he pleases.

¶ The voice of my beloved! behold, he comes leaping over the mountains, skipping over the hills.

My beloved is like a roe or a young hart; behold, he stands behind our wall; he looks through the windows, blossoming through the lattice.

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