Book 10
68
But in our time dear to the thyrsus-bearers Is rosy wine, and greatest of all gods Is Bacchus. As Ion the Chian says, in his Elegies— For this is pretext fit for many a song; The great assemblies of th' united Greeks, The feasts of kings, do from this gift proceed, Since first the vine, with hoary bunches laden, Push'd from beneath the ground its fertile shoots, Clasping the poplar in its firm embrace, And from its buds burst forth a numerous race, Crashing, as one upon the other press'd; But when the noise has ceased they yield their juice, Divinest nectar, which to mortal men Is ever the sole remedy for care, And common cause of joy and cheerfulness. Parent of feasts, and laughter, and the dance, Wine shows the disposition of the good, And strengthens all their noble qualities. Hail! then, O Bacchus, president of feasts, Dear to all men who love the wreathed flowers; Give us, kind God, an age of happiness, To drink, and play, and cherish just designs.
