11 For lo, the winter is past, the rain is over [and] gone.
12 The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing [of birds] is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land;
13 The fig-tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines [with] the tender grape give a [good] smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.
14 O my dove, [that art] in the clefts of the rock, in the secret [places] of the stairs, let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy voice; for sweet [is] thy voice, and thy countenance [is] comely.
15 Take for us the foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the vines: for our vines [have] tender grapes.
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