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Making their rounds in the city
    the sentinels found me;
they beat me, they wounded me,
    they took away my mantle,
    those sentinels of the walls.
I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem,
    if you find my beloved,
tell him this:
    I am faint with love.

Colloquy of Friends and Bride

What is your beloved more than another beloved,
    O fairest among women?
What is your beloved more than another beloved,
    that you thus adjure us?

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