They, and the Muses, rise both from one stem:
They grace the Muses; and the Muses, them.
Bring forth your flagons, filled with sparkling wine
(Whereon swollen Bacchus, crownèd with a vine,
Is graven); and fill out!
It well bestowing
To every man about,
In goblets flowing!
Let not a man drink, but in draughts profound!
To our god Phœbus, let the Health go round!