Song of Solomon 7:9-12

And the roof of your mouth like the best wine. The wine goes down smoothly for my beloved, Moving gently the lips of sleepers. I am my beloved’s, And his desire is toward me. Come, my beloved, Let us go forth to the field; Let us lodge in the villages. Let us get up early to the vineyards; Let us see if the vine has budded, Whether the grape blossoms are open, And the pomegranates are in bloom. There I will give you my love.

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