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My love put his hand in through the latch hole,
        and my body ached for him.
I rose; I went to open for my love,
        and my hands dripped myrrh,
        my fingers, liquid myrrh,
        over the handles of the lock.
I went and opened for my love,
    but my love had turned, gone away.
I nearly died when he turned away.
I looked for him but couldn’t find him.
        I called out to him, but he didn’t answer me.

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