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His left hand would be under my head.
    His right hand would embrace me.

I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem,
    that you not stir up, nor awaken love,
    until it so desires.

Friends

Who is this who comes up from the wilderness,
    leaning on her beloved?

Beloved

Under the apple tree I awakened you.
    There your mother conceived you.
    There she was in labor and bore you.

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