Bid the lyre and cittern play;Enkindle incense, shed the victim's gore;Heaven has watch'd o'er Numida,And brings him safe from far Hispania's shore.Now, returning, he bestowsOn each dear comrade all the love he can;But to Lamia most he owes,By whose sweet side he grew from boy to man.Note we in our calendarThis festal day with whitest mark from Crete:Let it flow, the old wine-jar,And ply to Salian time your restless feet.Damalis tosses off her wine,But Bassus sure must prove her match tonight.Give us roses all to twine,And parsley green, and lilies deathly white.Every melting eye will restOn Damalis' lovely face; but none may partDamalis from our new-found guest;She clings, and clings, like ivy, round his heart.