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Your neck is like the tower of David,(A)
constructed in layers.
A thousand shields are hung on it –
all of them shields of warriors.
Your breasts are like two fawns,
twins of a gazelle,(B) that feed among the lilies.
Until the day breaks[a]
and the shadows flee,(C)
I will make my way to the mountain of myrrh
and the hill of frankincense.(D)

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Footnotes

  1. 4:6 Lit breathes