No More Learning

Thou art like the hyacinthine flower, wont to stand aloft 'midst varied
riches of its lordling's garden. But thou delayest, day slips by: advance,
new mated one.

Advance, new mated, now in sight, and listen to our speech. Note how the
torch-flakes shake their glittering tresses: advance, new mated one.

Nor given to ill adulteries, nor seeking lawless shames, shall thy husband
ever wish to lie away from thy soft breasts,

But as the lithe vine amongst neighbouring trees doth cling, so shall he be
enclasped in thine encircled arms. But day slips by: advance, new mated
one.

O nuptial couch * * * * with feet of ivory white.

What joys are coming to thy lord, in gloom o' night, in noon of day. Let
him rejoice! but day slips by: advance, new mated one.

High raise, 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 to the boys the nuts deny,
ingle, hearing thy master's love has flown.

Give nuts to the boys, O listless ingle; enough of days thou hast played
with nuts: now 'tis meet to serve Talassius. O ingle, give the nuts!
The country lasses slighted were by thee, O ingle, till to-day: now the
bride's tiresman shaves thy face. Wretched, wretched ingle, give the nuts.

They say that from thy hairless ingles, O sweet-scented bridegroom, thou
canst scarce abstain: but abstain thou! O Hymen Hymenaeus io, O Hymen
Hymenaeus.

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

Thou also, bride, what thy husband seekest beware of denying, lest he go
elsewhere in its search. O Hymen Hymenaeus io, O Hymen Hymenaeus!

Look, thy husband's home is thine, potent and goodly, and shall be thine
for ever more. O Hymen Hymenaeus io, O Hymen Hymenaeus!

Until with trembling movement thine hoary brow nods ever to everything. O
Hymen Hymenaeus io, O Hymen Hymenaeus!

Lift o'er the threshold with good omen thy glistening feet, and go through
the polished gates. O Hymen Hymenaeus io, O Hymen Hymenaeus!

Look! thy lord within, lying on Tyrian couch, all-expectant waits for thee.