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Which if I should try to render in a few words,
the Sun would hide his rays in the sea before the rising.
Meanwhile, the Nymphs were not standing mute through the leisure of the unbinding,
but were throwing voices applauding into the air,
in which all their clothing was the same
of Sidonian purple: part of them beat the earth
with loosened footwear, and exercised numerous dances:
Part pluck violets and roses, and lilies in full baskets,
narcissus, and cassia, and the sweetly blushing Hyacinth,
the leafy gifts of the vernal countryside:
Part provide work for garlands, and crown the Nymph,
the history of whose life the Latonian hero Apollo plays,
just as the wife of Saturn Juno sings of the bride.
But the Graces, congratulating the spouses, thence
give forth their voice in sonorous applause: of whom also the pipe,
inflated in few and disparate modes,
subduing five feet in the song, intones with an alternating whisper,
and sounds at the torches and the pious bridal vows.
Finally, Hymen, leaping up, established a hymn
and struck the lyre, by which once Lesbian Sappho [played],
to whom then discordant Concord sang in unison of voices:
Now it is pleasing to imitate the girls with a grateful voice,
and the torch-bearing God, to whom marriages are a concern.
Yet I congratulate the two new spouses from my mind,
and I pray that the bed may be vacant from all discrimination,
that it may be without strife, and without stain, and second i.e., fruitful/prosperous,
may it be sweet, concordant, fruitful, lovable, free
from sadness, and finally may it lead to a holy life.