Draw me, we will run after thee: The king hath brought me into his chambers: We will be glad and rejoice in thee, We will remember thy love more than wine: The upright love thee. I am black, but comely, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, As the tents of Kedar, As the curtains of Solomon. Look not upon me, because I am black, Because the sun hath looked upon me: My mother's children were angry with me; They made me the keeper of the vineyards; But mine own vineyard have I not kept. Tell me, O thou whom my soul loveth, Where thou feedest, where thou makest thy flock to rest at noon: For why should I be as one that turneth aside By the flocks of thy companions? If thou know not, O thou fairest among women, Go thy way forth by the footsteps of the flock, And feed thy kids Beside the shepherds' tents.
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