Lift o'er the threshold with good omen thy
glistening
feet, and go through
the polished gates.
the polished gates.
Catullus - Carmina
"
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.
O Hymen Hymenaeus io, O Hymen Hymenaeus!
Not less than in thine, in his breast burns an inmost flame, but more
deeply inward. O Hymen Hymenaeus io, O Hymen Hymenaeus!
Unloose the damsel's slender arm, O purple-bordered youth: now let her
approach her husband's couch. O Hymen Hymenaeus io, O Hymen Hymenaeus.
Ye good dames of fair renown to aged spouses, put ye the damsel a-bed. O
Hymen Hymenaeus io, O Hymen Hymenaeus.
Now thou mayst come, O bridegroom: thy wife is in the bridal-bed, with face
brightly blushing as white parthenice 'midst ruddy poppies.
But, O bridegroom (so help me the heaven-dwellers) in no way less beautiful
art thou, nor doth Venus slight thee. But the day slips by: on! nor more
delay.
Nor long hast thou delayed, thou comest now.
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.
O Hymen Hymenaeus io, O Hymen Hymenaeus!
Not less than in thine, in his breast burns an inmost flame, but more
deeply inward. O Hymen Hymenaeus io, O Hymen Hymenaeus!
Unloose the damsel's slender arm, O purple-bordered youth: now let her
approach her husband's couch. O Hymen Hymenaeus io, O Hymen Hymenaeus.
Ye good dames of fair renown to aged spouses, put ye the damsel a-bed. O
Hymen Hymenaeus io, O Hymen Hymenaeus.
Now thou mayst come, O bridegroom: thy wife is in the bridal-bed, with face
brightly blushing as white parthenice 'midst ruddy poppies.
But, O bridegroom (so help me the heaven-dwellers) in no way less beautiful
art thou, nor doth Venus slight thee. But the day slips by: on! nor more
delay.
Nor long hast thou delayed, thou comest now.
