From heaven's immortal rulers know
Such wondrous happiness must flow. 108
If ever wealth's abundant store
Illustrious glory should convey,
No higher eminence explore,115
No farther mortal feet can stray.
As the convivial board is crown'd
By jocund youth's enlivening sound,
Thus the soft luxuries of song
To recent conquest's praise belong.120
Where'er the festal cup is shown
The voice assumes a bolder tone.
Let this by any mingled be,
Sweet harbinger of revelry! 120
Let him in silver goblets pour125
The potent offspring of the vine;
With which the steeds in days of yore
Enrich'd triumphant Chromius' store;
While Phœbus gloried to entwine
For him the justly woven crown130
From Sicyon's venerable town.
To thee, oh Father Jove! I pray
Grant me this conquest to display,
Assisted by the Graces' choir—
Oh! may I honour in my strain135
The various wreaths his efforts gain,
And to the muses let my shafts aspire. 132
