Blessed is she who will soon call thee husband and unite herself to thee with the bonds of first love.

II. (XII.)

Come, earth, wreathed about with nuptial spring, do honour to thy master’s marriage-feast. Sing, woods and rivers all, sing, deep of ocean. Give your blessing, too, Ligurian plains and yours, Venetian hills. Let Alpine heights on a sudden clothe themselves with rose-bushes and the fields of ice grow red. Let the Adige re-echo the sound of choric lays and meandering Mincius whisper gently through his

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et Padus electriferis

admoduletur alnis; 15

epulisque iam repleto

resonet Quirite Thybris

dominique laeta votis

aurea septemgeminas