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Scarcely had I passed them,
    when I found him whom my soul loves.
I held him, and would not let him go
    until I brought him to my mother’s house,
    and into the chamber of her who conceived me.
I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem,
    by the gazelles or does of the field,
do not stir up or awaken love
    until it pleases.

Who is that coming up from the wilderness,
    like columns of smoke,
perfumed with myrrh and frankincense,
    with all the fragrant powders of the merchant?

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