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The precious sons of Zion, they who were weighed against pure gold, How are they accounted as earthen pitchers, the work of the hands of the potter!

Purer were her Nazirites than snow, whiter were they than milk, - more ruddy, in body, than coral, A sapphire, was their beauty of form.

Women - in Zion, were ravished, virgins, in the cities of Judah!