O Hymen Hymenaeus io, O Hymen
Hymenaeus!
Catullus - Carmina
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.
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.
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.
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.
