I sleep, but my heart waketh, unable to shake off the half-conscious drowsiness which came upon her; it is the voice of my Beloved that knocketh, saying, Open to Me, My sister, My love, My dove, My undefiled, the one of whom He is sure that she is wholly devoted to Him in love, as His terms of endearment show; for My head is filled with dew and My locks with the drops of the night, the fall of dew being very heavy in Palestine.

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