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Thy cheeks are as the bark of a pomegranate, beside what is hidden within thee.

There are threescore queens, and fourscore concubines, and young maidens without number.

One is my dove, my perfect one is but one, she is the only one of her mother, the chosen of her that bore her. The daughters saw her, and declared her most blessed: the queens and concubines, and they praised her.

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Your teeth are like a flock of sheep
    coming up from the washing.
Each has its twin,
    not one of them is missing.(A)
Your temples behind your veil(B)
    are like the halves of a pomegranate.(C)
Sixty queens(D) there may be,
    and eighty concubines,(E)
    and virgins beyond number;

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