Raise high the roof-beam, carpenters. Like Ares comes the bridegroom, taller far than a tall man.
I took my lyre and said: come now, my heavenly tortoise shell: become a speaking instrument.
I do not know what to do, my mind's in two.
The moon has set, and the Pleiades; it is midnight, and time passes, and I sleep alone.
Love, like a mountain-wind upon an oak, falling upon me, shakes me leaf and bough.
Stand and face me, my love,and scatter the grace in your eyes.