That fairer femininetyClear day outdawned from Ocean streamShall ever more behold.Such in the many-tinted bowerOf rich man's garden passing gayUpstands the hyacinthine flower.But thou delayest, wanes the day:“Prithee, come forth new Bride.”Prithee, come forth new Bride! methinks,Drawing in sight, the talk we holdThou haply hearest. See the Links!How shake their locks begilt with gold:Prithee, new Bride come forth.Not lightly given thy mate to illJoys and adulterous delightsFoul fleshly pleasures seeking stillShall ever choose he lie o' nightsFar from thy tender paps.But as with pliant shoots the vineRound nearest tree-trunk winds her way,