"Venus sends virgins to you with suitable modesty:
there is one thing we ask: withdraw, Delian virgin,
so that the wood may be unstained by the slaughter of wild [beasts,
and may cast verdant shadows upon flowers standing upright.]1
She would like to invite you, if she might prevail on your modesty;
she would like you to come, if it befits a virgin.
Now for three festal nights you would see choruses 
gathered among throngs to go through your woodlands,
among garlands of flowers, among huts of myrtle.
Neither Ceres nor Bacchus is absent, nor the god of poets.
[The whole night is to be prolonged and kept awake with singing]2:
May Dione reign in the forests! Withdraw, O Delia!"

Tomorrow let him love who has never loved, and who has loved, let him love tomorrow!