What joys the lord of thee betide!What love-liesse on vaguing way0' nights! What sweets in morning tideFor thee be stored! Yet wanes the day:Prithee, come forth fresh Bride!Your lighted links, 0 boys, wave high:I see the flamey veil draw nigh:Hie, sing in merry mode and cry"0 Hymen Hymenaeus io,0 Hymen Hymenaeus!"Lest longer mute tongue stays that joysIn festal jest, from Fescennine,Nor yet denay their nuts to boys,He-Concubine! who learns in fineHis lordling's love is fled.Throw nuts to boys thou idle allHe-Concubine! wast fain full longWith nuts to play: now pleased as thrallBe thou to swell Talasios' throng:He-Concubine throw nuts.