I

Steal out with me Over the moss and the daffodils.

Come to the temple, Hung with sprays from untrimmed hedges.

I bring you a token From the golden-haired revellers, From the mad procession.

Come, Flute girls shall pipe to us-- Their beautiful fingers!-- They are yellow-throated birds. They send perfumes from dawn-scented garments, Bending above us.

Come, Bind your hair with white poplar, Let your lips be sweet, Wild roses of Paestum.