T he fading flower of his glorious beauty, which is on the head of the fertile valley, shall be like the first-ripe fig before the summer; which someone picks and eats as soon as he sees it.
And the fading flower of the beauty of his glory That on the head of the fat valley, Hath been as its first-fruit before summer, That its beholder seeth, While it yet in his hand he swalloweth it.
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