10
Maid of Delos, Venus sends thee shamefast maidens chaste as thou.
One thing only we petition—leave to us thy forest now,
That the grove awhile with slaughter of its brood may be undyed,
And the shadows of its frondage o'er the new-born flowers may glide.
Tomorn who ne'er hath loved shall love, and who hath loved shall love tomorn.
11
She herself would fain beseech thee—might she move thy chastity;
Fain she were thyself wouldst come—if meet for Maiden this would be.
Now shouldst thou three livelong nights see festal troops that dance and chant
Pass mid thronging thousands through the forest-glades, thy chosen haunt.
Tomorn who ne'er hath loved shall love, and who hath loved shall love tomorn.
12
Mid the crowns of flowers, the booths where myrtle-boughs entwine and cling,
Shall the Harvest-queen, the Wine-god, wander, and the Poets' King.
