Pindar and Anacreon/Anacreon/Ode 39
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.
When the joy-inspiring draught
Frees my soul from anxious thought,
Graver thoughts I fling away,
Sporting with the young and gay.
When I glow with generous wine,
Life's real blessings all are mine,
Joys beyond the reach of fate—
Death is sure in every state.