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14 O my dove, that art in the clefts of the rock,
in the secret places of the stairs,
let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy voice;
for sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely.
15 Take us the foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the vines:
for our vines have tender grapes.

16 My beloved is mine, and I am his:
he feedeth among the lilies.

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