Carmina

You who dwell on Helicon Hill, sprung from Urania, who carry off the gentle virgin to her mate, O Hymenaeus Hymen, O Hymen Hymenaeus!

Twine round your temples sweet-smelling flowers of marjoram; put on your gold-tinted veil; lighthearted here, come here, bearing on snowy foot the golden-yellow sandal:

And afire with the joyous day, chanting wedding melodies with ringing voice, strike the ground with your feet, with your hand swing aloft the torch of pine.

For Vinia—fair as Venus dwelling in Idalium when came to the Phrygian judge—a virgin fair, weds Manlius amid happy auspices.

She, bright-shining as the Asian myrtle florid in its branches, which the Hamadryads nurture for their pleasure with besprinkled dew.

So come then! convey your approach here, leaving the Aonian cave in cliffs of Thespiae, over which flows the chilling stream of Aganippe.

And summon homewards the mistress, eager for her new husband, firm-prisoning her soul in love; as tight-clasping ivy, wandering here and there, wraps the tree around.

And also you, upright virgins, for whom a like day is nearing, chant in cadence, singing “O Hymenaeus Hymen, O Hymen Hymenaeus!”

That more freely, hearing himself to his duty called, will he bear here his presence, Lord of honorable love, uniter of true lovers.

What god is worthier to be sought by anxious lovers? Whom of the celestials do men worship more greatly? O Hymenaeus Hymen, O Hymen Hymenaeus!

You for his young the trembling father beseeches, for you virgins unclasp the belt from their breasts, for you the fearful bridegroom harkens with eager ear.

You deliver into the hands of the untamed youth that flower-like maiden, taken from her mother's bosom, O Hymenaeus Hymen, O Hymen Hymenaeus!

Without you Venus can do nothing suitable that good repute sanctions; but she can, with you willing. Who dares to be compared with such a god?

Without you, no house can produce heirs, no parent be surrounded by offspring; but they can, with you willing. Who dares to be compared with such a god?

And lacking your rites no land can give protection to its territory; but it can, with you willing. Who dares to be compared with such a god?

Unbolt, open the gates: the virgin is here. See how the torches shake their gleaming locks? ---

---Her natural modesty detains her: hearing this the more, she weeps because she must go.

Cease your tears. For you there is no peril, Aurunculeia, that any woman more beauteous will ever see the light of day coming from Ocean.

You are like the hyacinth flower, which stands aloft amid varied riches of its master's garden. But you delay, day slips by: advance, new bride.

Advance, new bride, it now seems right, and listen to our speech. See how the torches shake their glittering tresses: advance, new bride.

Nor is your man a fickle husband, given to ill adulteries, seeking shameless acts, ever wishing to lie away from your soft breasts,

But as the lithe vine among neighbouring trees doth cling, so shall he be enclasped in your embrace. But day slips by: advance, new bride.

O nuptial couch which for all---with feet of ivory white.

What joys are coming to your man in fleeting night, in noon of day, let him rejoice! but day slips by: advance, new bride.

Raise high, O boys, the torches: I see the gleaming veil approach. Come, chant in cadence, “O Hymen Hymenaeus io, O Hymen Hymenaeus.”

Nor longer silent is lewd Fescinnine jest, nor, favorite, hearing your master's love has flown, deny the nuts to the boys.

Give nuts to the boys, O listless favorite; long enough have you played nuts: now you must serve Talassius. O favorite, give the nuts!

The country wives were dirt to you, O favorite, but yesterday: now the barber shaves your face. Wretched, wretched favorite, give the nuts.

They will say when the bridegroom has been annointed that you can scarce abstain from your hairless boys: butabstain! O Hymen Hymenaeus io, O Hymen Hymenaeus.

We know that these delights were known to you only when lawful: but to the wedded these same no more are lawful. O Hymen Hymenaeus io, O Hymen Hymenaeus!

You also, bride, what your husband seeks beware of denying, lest he go elsewhere in its search. O Hymen Hymenaeus io, O Hymen Hymenaeus!

Look, your husband's home is yours, influential and goodly, allow it to serve you (O Hymen Hymenaeus io, O Hymen Hymenaeus!)

Until white-haired old age, shaking your trembling brow, nods assent to everything. O Hymen Hymenaeus io, O Hymen Hymenaeus!

Bring with good omen your golden feet across the threshold, and go through the polished doorway. O Hymen Hymenaeus io, O Hymen Hymenaeus!

Look! your husband alone within, lying on Tyrian couch, all-expectant waits for you. O Hymen Hymenaeus io, O Hymen Hymenaeus!

No less than in yours, in his breast burns an inmost flame, but more deeply inward. O Hymen Hymenaeus io, O Hymen Hymenaeus!

Release the maiden's slender arm, boy with crimson-bordered toga: now let her approach her husband's couch. O Hymen Hymenaeus io, O Hymen Hymenaeus.

You good women of fair renown to aged spouses, put the maiden to bed. O Hymen Hymenaeus io, O Hymen Hymenaeus.

Now you may come, bridegroom: your wife is in the bedroom, with face brightly blushing as white parthenice amid ruddy poppies.

But, bridegroom (so help me the heaven-dwellers) in no way less beautiful are you, nor does Venus slight you. But the day slips by: on! do not delay.

You have not delayed for long, now you are coming. Kindly Venus will help you, since what you desire you take publicly, and do not conceal true love.

Whoever wishes to keep count of your many thousand games, first let him make an accounting of the number of Africa's sands and the glittering stars.

Play as you like, and speedily give heirs. It does not become so old a name to without children, but from similar stock always to be generated.

A little Torquatus I wish, from his mother's lap reaching out his dainty hands, and smiling sweetly at his father with lips apart.

May he be like his father Manlius, and easily acknowledged by every stranger, and by his face point out his mother's faithfulness.

May such praise confirm his birth from true mother, such fame as rests only with Telemachus from best of mothers, Penelope.

Close the doors, virgins: enough we've played. But, fair bride and groom, live you well, and diligently fulfil the office of vigorous youth.