I know not what to do, my mind is divided

Raise high the roof-beam, carpenters. Like Ares comes the bridegroom, taller far than a tall man.

Would Jove appoint some flower to reign, in matchless beauty on the plain, the Rose (mankind will all agree). The Rose the queen of flowers should be.

Whatever one loves most is beautiful.

Eros harrows my heart: wild gales sweeping desolate mountains, uprooting oaks.

To me the Muses truly gave / An envied and a happy lot: / E'en when I lie within the grave, / I cannot, shall not, be forgot.

Builders, raise the ceiling high, Raise the dome into the sky, Hear the wedding song! For the happy groom is near, Tall as Mars, and statelier, Hear the wedding song!