He brought me to the banqueting-house, And his banner over me was love. Stay ye me with raisins, refresh me with apples; For I am sick from love. His left hand is under my head, And his right hand doth embrace me. I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, By the roes, or by the hinds of the field, That ye stir not up, nor awake my love, Until he please.
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