For clustering grapes are thy peculiar care;

For thee large bunches load the bending vine,

And the last blessings of the year are thine;

To thee his joys the jolly autumn owes,

While the fermenting juice the vat o'erflows,

Come steep with me, my god; come drench all o'er

Thy limbs in wine, and drink at every pore!"

* * * * * *

Thus Roman youth, derived from ruined Troy,

In rude Saturnian rhymes express their joy;