Public Domain Poetry And Stories - Connubii Flores, Or The Well-Wishes At Weddings. by Robert Herrick
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Connubii Flores, Or The Well-Wishes At Weddings.

    By Robert Herrick



    Chorus Sacerdotum. From the temple to your home
    May a thousand blessings come!
    And a sweet concurring stream
    Of all joys to join with them.

    Chorus Juvenum. Happy Day,
    Make no long stay
            Here
            In thy sphere;
            But give thy place to Night,
            That she,
            As thee,
            May be
    Partaker of this sight.
    And since it was thy care
    To see the younglings wed,
    'Tis fit that Night the pair
    Should see safe brought to bed.

    Chorus Senum. Go to your banquet then, but use delight,
    So as to rise still with an appetite.
    Love is a thing most nice, and must be fed
    To such a height, but never surfeited.
    What is beyond the mean is ever ill:
    'Tis best to feed Love, but not overfill;
    Go then discreetly to the bed of pleasure,
    And this remember, virtue keeps the measure.

    Chorus Virginum. Lucky signs we have descri'd
                To encourage on the bride,
                And to these we have espi'd,
                Not a kissing Cupid flies
                Here about, but has his eyes
                To imply your love is wise.

    Chorus Pastorum. Here we present a fleece
            To make a piece
        Of cloth;
        Nor, fair, must you be both
        Your finger to apply
            To housewifery.
            Then, then begin
        To spin:
    And, sweetling, mark you, what a web will come
    Into your chests, drawn by your painful thumb.

    Chorus Matronarum. Set you to your wheel, and wax
            Rich by the ductile wool and flax.
    Yarn is an income, and the housewives' thread
    The larder fills with meat, the bin with bread.

    Chorus Senum. Let wealth come in by comely thrift
        And not by any sordid shift;
            'Tis haste
            Makes waste:
            Extremes have still their fault:
    The softest fire makes the sweetest malt:
    Who grips too hard the dry and slippery sand
    Holds none at all, or little in his hand.


    Chorus Virginum. Goddess of pleasure, youth and peace,
        Give them the blessing of increase:
        And thou, Lucina, that dost hear
        The vows of those that children bear:
        Whenas her April hour draws near,
        Be thou then propitious there.

    Chorus Juvenum. Far hence be all speech that may anger move:
    Sweet words must nourish soft and gentle love.

    Chorus Omnium. Live in the love of doves, and having told
    The raven's years, go hence more ripe than old.



Extra Info:
Nice, dainty.
Painful, painstaking; for the passage cp. Catull. Nupt. Pel. et Thet. 311-314.


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