O Hymen Hymenaeus.Lo! here the house of high degreeThy husband's puissant home to be,Which ever shall obey thy gree.O Hymen Hymenaeus io,O Hymen Hymenaeus!Till Time betide when eld the hoarThy head and temples trembling o'erMake nod to all things evermore.O Hymen Hymenaeus io,0 Hymen Hymenaeus.O'erstep with omen meetest meetThe threshold-stone thy golden feetUp, past the polisht panels fleet.O Hymen Hymenaeus io,O Hymen Hymerneus.Within bestrewn thy bridegroom seeOn couch of Tyrian cramoisyAll imminent awaiting thee.O Hymen Hymenaeus io,O Hymen Hymenaeus.For in his breast not less than thineBurn high the flames that deepest shrine,Yet his the lowe far deeper lien.O Hymen Hymemeus io,O Hymen Hymenaeus.Let fall the maid's soft arms, thou fairBoy purple-hem'd: now be thy careHer bridegroom's couch she seek and share.O Hymen Hymenaeus io,0 Hymen Hymenaeus.Ye wives time-tried to husbands wed,Well-known for chastity inbred,Dispose the virginette a-bed.O Hymen Hymenaeus io,0 Hymen Hymenaeus.Groom, now 'tis meet thou hither pace,With bride in genial bed to blend,For sheenly shines her flowery faceWhere the white chamomiles contendWith poppies blushing red.Yet bridegroom (So may Godhead deignHelp me!) nowise in humbler wayArt fair, nor Venus shall disdainThy charms, but look! how wanes the day:Forward, nor loiter more!No longer loitering makest thou,Now comest thou. May Venus goodAid thee when frankly takest thouThy wishes won, nor true Love woo'dThou carest to conceal.Of Afric's wolds and wilds each grain,Or constellations glistening,First reckon he that of the twainTo count alone were fain to bringThe many thousand joys.Play as ye please: soon prove ye deftAt babying babes,—'twere ill design'dA name thus ancient should be leftHeirless, but issue like of kindEngendered aye should be.A wee Torquaitus fain I'd seeEncradled on his mother's breastPut forth his tender puds while heSmiles to his sire with sweetest gestAnd liplets half apart.Let son like father's semblance show(Manlius!) so with easy guessAll know him where his sire they know,And still his face and form expressHis mother's honest love.Approve shall fair approof his birthFrom mother's seed-stock generous,As rarest fame of mother's worthUnique exalts TelemachusPenelope's own son.Fast close the door-leaves, virgin band: