15 Forget doth a woman her suckling, The loved one — the son of her womb? Yea, these forget — but I — I forget not thee.
16 Lo, on the palms of the hand I have graven thee, Thy walls [are] before Me continually.
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15 Forget doth a woman her suckling, The loved one — the son of her womb? Yea, these forget — but I — I forget not thee.
16 Lo, on the palms of the hand I have graven thee, Thy walls [are] before Me continually.
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