True, I'm old; but you shall see
Old Silenus, full of glee,[1]
Acted to the life by me.
ODE XXXIX.—ON HIMSELF.
When the rosy wine inspires,
Every muse my bosom fires,
All the joys of love and song
Cheer my heart and tune my tongue.
When the joys of wine I share,
Farewell every anxious care;
Sportive winds my sorrows sweep
To the restless, roaring deep.
When I drain the spacious bowl,
Bacchus charms my ravish'd soul;
Perfumed gales from beds of flowers
Bathe in bliss the happy hours.
When with rosy garlands crown'd,
The social cup I pass around;
Rapt in fancy's airy dream,
Peaceful pleasures are my theme.
When I quaff the grape's rich juice,
Bathed in liquid sweets profuse,
Venus claims my votive strain,
Chloe fills my arms again.
- ↑ Silenus was the foster-father and tutor of Bacchus, represented as a little, flat-nosed, bald, fat, tun-bellied, old, drunken fellow, riding on an ass. His picture is thus drawn by Ovid:—
"Around the Bacchæ and the Satyrs' throng,
Behind, Silenus drunk lags slow along;
On his dull ass he nods from side to side,
Forbears to fall, yet half forgets to ride."—Eusden.
