Last Poems. 24. Epithalamium He is here, Urania’s son, Hymen come from Helicon; God that glads the lover’s heart, He is here to join and part. So the groomsman quits your side And the bridegroom seeks the bride: Friend and comrade yield you o’er To her that hardly loves you more. Now the sun his skyward beam Has tilted from the Ocean stream. Light the Indies, laggard sun: Happy bridegroom, day is done, And the star from Œta’s steep Calls to bed but not to sleep. Happy bridegroom, Hesper brings All desired and timely things. All whom morning sends to roam, Hesper loves to lead them home. Home return who him behold, Child to mother, sheep to fold, Bird to nest from wandering wide: Happy bridegroom, seek your bride. Pour it out, the golden cup Given and guarded, brimming up, Safe through jostling markets borne And the thicket of the thorn; Folly spurned and danger past, Pour it to the god at last. Now, to smother noise and light, Is stolen abroad the wildering night, And the blotting shades confuse Path and meadow full of dews; And the high heavens, that all control, Turn in silence round the pole. Catch the starry beams they shed Prospering the marriage bed, And breed the land that reared your prime Sons to stay the rot of time. All is quiet, no alarms; Nothing fear of nightly harms. Safe you sleep on guarded ground, And in silent circle round The thoughts of friends keep watch and ward, Harnessed angels, hand on sword. |
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