That Barque Brings Home My Heaven

Excipiamque umeris et multa sine ordine carpam oscula.

From Elegy XI by Publius Ovidius Naso (‘Ovid’)

“I, gazing seawards from the shore, shall be the first to see thy vessel dear, and I shall cry, ‘That barque brings home my heaven.’
I'll fold thee in my arms, and with a riot of wild kisses smother thee; the victim, consecrate to thy return, shall slaughtered be; the sands of the shore I'll fashion like a couch, and any mound will serve us for a table.
There, with the wine beside us, thou shalt all thy tale narrate; thou shalt tell me how thy vessel almost foundered mid the waves; thou shalt tell how, in hastening home to me, thou didst not fear the cold, dark nights, no, nor the stormy southern gales.
They may be travellers' tales, yet I'll believe them, every one. Wherefore should I not smile on what I long for most? Oh, may the Morning Star, that has no rival in the fields of night, spur on his steed and bring with speed that happy day.”

J Lewis May, 1930.