To-morrow—­What news of to-morrow? 
Now learn ye to love who loved never—­now ye who have loved, love anew! 
It is Spring, it is chorussing Spring; ’tis the birthday of Earth, and
    for you! 
It is Spring; and the Loves and the birds wing together and woo to accord
Where the bough to the rain has unbraided her locks as a bride to
    her lord. 
For she walks—­she our Lady, our Mistress of Wedlock—­the woodlands
    atween, 5
And the bride-bed she weaves them, with myrtle enlacing, with curtains
    of green. 
Look aloft! list the law of Dione, sublime and enthroned in the blue: 
Now learn ye to love who loved never—­now ye who have loved, love anew!

Tunc liquore de superno spumeo et ponti globo,
Caerulas inter catervas, inter et bipedes equos, 10
Fecit undantem Dionen de maritis imbribus.
Cras amet qui nunquam amavit; quiqiie amavit cras amet.

Ipsa gemmis purpurantem pingit annum floribus,
Ipsa surgentes papillas de Favoni spiritu
Urget in toros tepentes; ipsa roris lucidi 15
Noctis aura quem relinquit, spargit umentes aquas. 
Et micant lacrimae trementes de caduco pondere: 

Time was that a rain-cloud begat her, impregning the heave of the deep,
’Twixt hooves of sea-horses a-scatter, stampeding the dolphins as
    sheep. 10
Lo! arose of that bridal Dione, rainbow’d and besprent of its dew!
Now learn ye to love who loved never—­now ye who have loved, love anew!

She, she, with her gem-dripping finger enamels the wreath of the year;
She, she, when the maid-bud is nubile and swelling winds—­whispers anear,
Disguising her voice in the Zephyr’s—­“So secret the bed!  And thou
    shy?” 15
She, she, thro’ the hush’d humid Midsummer night draws the dew from on
    high;
Dew bright with the tears of its origin, dew with its weight on the bough,

Gutta praeceps orbe parvo sustinet casus suos. 
En, pudorem florulentae prodiderunt purpurae: 
Umor ille quern serenis astra rorant noctibus 20
Mane virgineas papillas solvit umenti peplo. 
Ipsa jussit mane ut udas virgines nubant rosae;
Fusa Paphies de cruore deque Amoris osculis
Deque gemmis deque flammis deque solis purpuris,
Cras ruborem qui latebat veste tectus ignea 25
Unico marita nodo non pudebit solvere.
Cras amet qui nunquam amavit; quique amavit cras amet.

Misdoubting and clinging and trembling—­“Now, now must I fall?  Is it now?” Star-fleck’d on the stem of the brier as it gathers and falters and flows, Lo! its trail runs a ripple of fire on the nipple it bids be a
    rose, 20
Yet englobes it diaphanous, veil upon veil in a tiffany drawn To bedrape the small virginal breasts yet unripe for the spousal of dawn; Till the vein’d very vermeil of Venus, till Cupid’s incarnadine kiss, Till the ray of the ruby, the sunrise, ensanguine the bath of her bliss; Till the wimple her bosom uncover, a tissue of fire to the view, 25 And the zone o’er the wrists of the lover slip down as they reach to undo. Now learn ye to love who loved never—­now ye who have loved, love anew!