Odes 1.27 (Martin): Natis In Usum

Hold! hold! 'Tis for Thracian madmen to fight
"With -wine-cups, that only were made for delight.
'Tis barbarous — brutal! I beg of you all,
Disgrace not our banquet with bloodshed and brawl!

The Median scimetar, why should it shine,
Where the merry lamps sparkle and glance in the wine?
'Tis out of all rule! Friends, your places resume,
And let us have order once more in the room!

If I am to join you in pledging a beaker
Of this stout Falernian, choicest of liquor,
Megilla's fair brother must say, from what eyes
Flew the shaft, sweetly fatal, that causes his sighs.

How — dumb! Then I drink not a drop. Never blush.
Whoever the fair one may be, man! Tush, tush!
She'll do your taste credit, I'm certain — for yours
Was always select in its little amours.

Don't be frightened! We're all upon honour, you know,
So out with your tale! Gracious powers! Is it so?
Poor fellow! your lot has gone sadly amiss,
When you fell into such a Charybdis as this!

What witch, what magician, with drinks and with charms.
What god can effect your release from her harms?
So fettered, scarce Pegasus' self, were he near you,
From the fangs of this triple Chimaera might clear you!