“Someday you will name me,
then gently place those burning
holy roses in my hair.

[Songs of Longing]”

“Why – even supposing I had the skill – do you bid me compose a song dedicated to Venus the lover of Fescennine mirth, placed as I am among long-haired hordes, having to endure German speech, praising oft with wry face the song of the gluttonous Burgundian who spreads rancid butter on his hair?”
Quid me, etsi valeam, parare carmen<br/>Fescenninicolae iubes Diones<br/>inter crinigeras situm catervas<br/>et Germanica verba sustinentem,<br/>laudantem tetrico subinde vultu<br/>quod Burgundio cantat esculentus<br/>infundens acido comam butyro?

“If he bring me a rose, a briar rose,
To place in my braided hair,
I shall know there are thorns in life for me
And many a wearying care.
If he bring me a lily pure and pale
And lay it upon my breast,
I shall know that my life will be of peace,
As a bird in its mother's nest.”

“There's a bower of roses by Bendemeer's stream,
And the nightingale sings round it all the day long;
In the time of my childhood 'twas like a sweet dream,
To sit in the roses and hear the bird's song.”

“Your kisses lift me higher… like the sweet song of a choir. You light my morning sky, with burning love.”

“You think I'm not a goddess?
Try me.
This is a torch song.
Touch me and you'll burn.”

“The places where water comes together with other water. Those places stand out in my mind like holy places.”

“Flow gently, sweet Afton! amang thy green braes,
Flow gently, I'll sing thee a song in thy praise.
My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream,
Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.”

“They knew me from the dawn of time: if Hermes beats his rainbow wings,
If Angus shakes his locks of light, or golden-haired Apollo sings,
It matters not the name, the land; my joy in all the gods abides:
Even in the cricket in the grass some dimness of me smiles and hides.
For joy of me the day star glows, and in delight and wild desire
The peacock twilight rays aloft its plumes and blooms of shadowy fire,
Where in the vastness too I burn through summer nights and ages long,
And with the fiery footed Watchers shake in myriad dance and song.”

“Sing the rapturous love-song unto me! Burn to me perfumes! Wear to me jewels! Drink to me, for I love you! I love you!”