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My beloved has gone down to his garden,
    to the beds of spices,
to pasture his flock in the gardens
    and to gather lilies.(A)
I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is mine;
    he pastures his flock among the lilies.(B)

The Young Woman’s Matchless Beauty

You are beautiful as Tirzah, my love,
    comely as Jerusalem,
    terrible as an army with banners.(C)

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