He wrote poems to her beauty that he recited from a seemingly infinite memory. How long wilt thou forget me, O Lord? for ever? How long wilt thou hide thy face from me? She came upon the Song of Songs—which had been pasted down in the Enschede Bible—the burning litany of love; and from time to time she intoned some verse of tender lyric beauty. What’s your name?” He asked in return. Her eyelids fluttered with recognition, and she cried out softly. See what you have made of me.
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