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Exact Match

Behold, you are fair, my love; behold, you are fair; you have doves' eyes behind your veil: your hair is like a flock of goats, going down from mount Gilead.

Turn away your eyes from me, for they have overcome me: your hair is as a flock of goats going down from Gilead.

Your head crowns you like Carmel, and the hair of your head is like purple; the king is held captive by your tresses.