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Many waters cannot quench love, Neither do the floods drown it: Even if a man gave all the substance of his house for love, It would utterly be contemned.

We have a little sister, And she hath no breasts: What shall we do for our sister In the day when she shall be spoken for?—

If she be a wall, We will build upon her a turret of silver; And if she be a door, We will enclose her with boards of cedar.

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