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Lover

I have come into my garden, my sister, my bride.
    I have gathered my myrrh with my spice;
    I have eaten my honeycomb with my honey;
    I have drunk my wine with my milk.

Friends

Eat, friends!
    Drink, yes, drink abundantly, beloved.

Beloved

I was asleep, but my heart was awake.
    It is the voice of my beloved who knocks:
    “Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled;
    for my head is filled with dew,
    and my hair with the dampness of the night.”

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