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FECUNDI CALICES, by                    
First Line: Lute, no longer hang upon your peg unstirred
Last Line: So is each man's spirit stirred by wine.
Alternate Author Name(s): Bakchylides


LUTE, no longer hang upon your peg unstirred,
Silencing your liquid voice of seven strings!
To my hands! for I would send a golden word
To Alexander from the Muses' wings,

Joy to those who sit and drink in groups of twenty,
When the soul warms with compulsion soft and sweet,
And the cups go jostling round the board in plenty;
Hopes of love then make the young hearts beat.

Dionysus mingles in the wine new powers,
Sending high adventure to the thoughts of men;
This man thinks he sacks a city's crown of towers,
That man dreams himself a monarch then.

Here with gold and ivory the halls are burning;
Bringing wheat and wealth across the gleaming brine
Back from Egypt come the merchantmen returning --
So is each man's spirit stirred by wine.





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