For though the bowl's the grave of sadness,
Ne'er let it be the birth of madness.
No, banish from our board tonight
The revelries of rude delight;
To Scythians leave these wild excesses,
Ours be the joy that soothes and blesses!
And while the temperate bowl we wreathe,
In concert let our voices breathe,
Beguiling every hour along
With harmony of soul and song.
[1] This ode consists of two fragments, which are to be found in
Athenaeus, book x., and which Barnes, from the similarity of their
tendency, has combined into one. I think this a very justifiable liberty,
and have adopted it in some other fragments of our poet.
[2] It was Amphictyon who first taught the Greeks to mix water with their
wine; in commemoration of which circumstance they erected altars to
Bacchus and the nymphs.
ODE LXIII.[1]
To Love, the soft and blooming child,
I touch the harp in descant wild;
To Love, the babe of Cyprian bowers,
The boy, who breathes and blushes flowers;
To Love, for heaven and earth adore him,
And gods and mortals bow before him!
[1] "This fragment is preserved in Clemens Alexandrinus, Storm, lib. vi.
and In Arsenius, Collect. Graec."--BARNES.
It appears to have been the opening of a hymn in praise of Love.
ODE LXIV.[1]
Haste thee, nymph, whose well-aimed spear
Wounds the fleeting mountain-deer!
Dian, Jove's immortal child,
Huntress of the savage wild!
Goddess with the sun-bright hair!
Listen to a people's prayer.
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