Workmen lift high The beams of the roof, Hymenæus! Like Ares from sky Comes the groom to the bride, Hymenæus! Than men who must die Stands he taller in pride, Hymenæus!
Laugh and the world laughs with you, Weep and you weep alone For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, But has trouble enough of its own
• Ella Wheeler Wilcox