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The watchmen that go about the city found me,
They smote me, they wounded me;
The keepers of the walls took away my [a]mantle from me.
I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem,
If ye find my beloved,
[b]That ye tell him, that I am sick from love.

What is thy beloved more than another beloved,
O thou fairest among women?
What is thy beloved more than another beloved,
That thou dost so adjure us?

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Footnotes

  1. Song of Solomon 5:7 Or, veil
  2. Song of Solomon 5:8 Hebrew What will ye tell him? That etc.