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11 The taste of honey is on your lips, my darling;
    your tongue is milk and honey for me.
Your clothing has all the fragrance of Lebanon.

12 My sweetheart, my bride, is a secret garden,
    a walled garden, a private spring;
13     there the plants flourish.
They grow like an orchard of pomegranate trees
    and bear the finest fruits.
There is no lack of henna and nard,

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