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11 For, lo, the winter is past;
The rain is over and gone;
12 The flowers appear on the earth;
The time of the [a]singing of birds is come,
And the voice of the turtle-dove is heard in our land;
13 The fig-tree ripeneth her green figs,
And the vines are in blossom;
They give forth their fragrance.
Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.

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Footnotes

  1. Song of Solomon 2:12 Or, pruning of vines

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