Book III, Elegy 10

I wondered what omen the Muses had sent me as they stood before my couch in the red sunlight of dawn. They sent me a token that 'twas the birthday of my mistress, and thrice with propitious sound they clapped their hands. May this day pass to its close without a cloud, may the winds be motionless in heaven, and may the threatening wave sink to calm on the dry shore. To-day may I see none that mourn, and may even the rock that is Niobe withhold its tears. May the sea-birds' mouths have rest, hushed from their wailing, and the mother of Itys cease to moan his death.

And do thou, beloved, born under happy auguries, rise and pray to the gods that demand their due offering. First with pure water wash sleep from off thee, and with thy finger's impress tire thy shining hair. Next don that robe wherein thou first didst snare the eyes of Propertius, and let thy brows not lack a crown of flowers. And pray that the beauty that is thy might may endure alway, and that thou mayest be the queen of my heart for ever. Then when thou hast appeased the wreathed altars with incense and their fire hath flashed its blessing through all the house, give thy thoughts to feasting. Let night speed mid the wine-cup, and let the casket of yellow onyx make glad our nostrils with oil of saffron; let the hoarse pipe blow for the midnight dance till it give o'er for weariness, and let thy wanton words come fast and free. Let the merry banquet keep unwelcome slumbers far, and let the air of the neighbouring street ring loud that all may hear. Let us cast lots, let the fall of the dice reveal to us those whom the boy god lashes with heavy pinions. And then when the hours have been sped by many a goblet and Venus appoints those mysteries that wait on night, let us with all solemnity perform the anniversary's rite in our chamber, and thus complete the path of thy natal day.