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Chapter 14

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my dove, my beautiful one,

arise, arise!

the night-dew lies

upon my lips and eyes.

the odorous winds are weaving

a music of sighs:

arise, arise,

my dove, my beautiful one!

i wait by the cedar tree,

my sister, my love,

white breast of the dove,

my breast shall be your bed.

the pale dew lies

like a veil on my head.

my fair one, my fair dove,

arise, arise!

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