Venus now wakes, and wakens [Love].
Come, let us our rites begin; 125
’Tis only daylight that makes sin,
Which these dun shades will ne’er report.
Hail, goddess of nocturnal sport,
[Dark-veiled Cotytto], to whom the secret flame
Of midnight torches burns! mysterious dame, 130
That ne’er art called but when the dragon womb
Of Stygian darkness spets her thickest gloom,