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Song of Solomon
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My skin is black, (and falleth) from me, And my bones are burned with heat. Thou sellest thy people for nought, And hast not increased (thy wealth) by their price. Thou makest us a byword among the nations, A shaking of the head among the peoples. Oh that my ways were established To observe thy statutes! I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, By the roes, or by the hinds of the field, That ye stir not up, nor awake (my) love, Until he please. O my dove, that art in the clefts of the rock, In the covert of the steep place, Let me see thy countenance, Let me hear thy voice; For sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely. Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet, And thy mouth is comely. Thy temples are like a piece of a pomegranate Behind thy veil. I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, If ye find my beloved, That ye tell him, that I am sick from love.
Song of Solomon
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8
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