The voice of my beloved! Behold, he cometh Leaping upon the mountains, Skipping upon the hills. My beloved is like a roe Or a young hart: Behold, he standeth Behind our wall, He looketh forth at the windows, Shewing himself through the lattice. My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair one, And come away. For, lo, the winter is past, The rain is over and gone
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