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Your neck is like the tower of David
    built layer upon layer;
a thousand bucklers hang upon it,
    all of them shields of valiant warriors.
Your two breasts are like two fawns,
    young twins of a gazelle
    that graze among the lilies.
Before the dawn comes,
    and the shadows flee,
I will hasten to the mountain of myrrh
    and the hill of frankincense.

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