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.
11For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone;
13The 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.
15Take us the foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the vines: for our vines have tender grapes.
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