Raise high the roof-beam, carpenters. Like Ares comes the bridegroom, taller far than a tall man.
He who is fair to look upon is good, and he who is good will soon be fair also.
I do not know what to do, my mind's in two.
Stars veil their beauty soon / Beside the glorious moon, / When her full silver light / Doth make the whole earth bright.
How love the limb-loosener sweeps me away
Eros harrows my heart: wild gales sweeping desolate mountains, uprooting oaks.