The Shulamite

My beloved has gone to his (A)garden,
To the beds of spices,
To feed his flock in the gardens,
And to gather lilies.
(B)I am my beloved’s,
And my beloved is mine.
He feeds his flock among the lilies.

Praise of the Shulamite’s Beauty

The Beloved

O my love, you are as beautiful as Tirzah,
Lovely as Jerusalem,
Awesome as an army with banners!

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