Vesper is here! behold Faint gleams that welcome shine! Rise from the feast, O youths, And chant the fescennine! Before the porch we sing The hymeneal song; Vesper is here, O youths! The star we waited long. We lead the festal groups Across the bridegroom's porch; Vesper is here, O youths! Wave high the bridal torch. Hail, noble bridegroom, hail! The virgin fair has come; Unlatch the door and lead Her timid footsteps home. Hail, noble bridegroom, hail! Straight as a tender tree; Fond as a folding vine Thy bride will cling to thee. PIERIA'S ROSE Pale death shall come, and thou and thine shall be, Then and thereafter, to all memory Forgotten as the wind that yesterday Blew the last lingering apple buds away; For thou hadst never that undying rose To grace the brow and shed immortal glows; Pieria's fadeless flower that few may claim To wreathe and save thy unremembered name. Ay! even on the fields of Dis unknown, Obscure among the shadows and alone, Thy flitting shade shall pass uncomforted Of any heed from all the flitting dead. But no one maid, I think, beneath the skies, At any time shall live and be as wise, In sooth, as I am; for the Muses Nine Have made me honored and their gifts are mine; And men, I think, will never quite forget My songs or me; so long as stars shall set Or sun shall rise, or hearts feel love's desire, My voice shall cross their dreams, a sigh of fire. LAMENT FOR ADONIS Ah, for Adonis! See, he is dying, Delicate, lovely, Slender Adonis. Ah, for Adonis! Weep, O ye maidens, Beating your bosoms, Rending your tunics. O Cytherea, Hasten, for never Loved thou another As thy Adonis. See, on the rosy Cheek with its dimple, Blushing no longer, Thanatos' shadow. Save him, O Goddess! Thou, the beguiler, All-powerful, holy, Stay the dread evil. Ah, for Adonis! No more at vintage Time will he come with Bloom of the meadows. Ah, for Adonis! See, he is dying, Fading as flowers With the lost summer. THE STRICKEN FLOWER Think not to ever look as once of yore, Atthis, upon my love; for thou no more Wilt find intact upon its stem the flower Thy guile left slain and bleeding in that hour. So ruthless shepherds crush beneath their feet The hill flower blooming in the summer heat; The hyacinth whose purple heart is found Left bruised and dead, to darken on the ground. DEATH Death is an evil; so the Gods decree, So they have judged, and such must rightly be Our mortal view; for they who dwell on high Had never lived, had it been good to die.