Odes 2.19 (Martin): Bacchum In Remotis

Bacchus I've seen, (no fable is my song!)
Where far among the rocks the hills are rooted,
His strains dictating to a listening throng
Of nymphs, and prick-eared Satyrs cloven-footed!

Evoe! The dread is on my soul even now,
Fill'd with the god my breast is heaving wildly!
Evoe! O spare, Lyaeus, spare me, thou,
And o'er me wield thine awful thyrsus mildly!

Now may I dare to sing of Bacchants bold,
To sing of wine in fountains redly rushing,
Of milky streams, and honey's liquid gold
From hollow trunks in woods primeval gushing.

Now may I chant her honours, too, thy bride,
Who high among the stars is throned in glory,
The halls of Pentheus shattered in their pride,
And of Lycurgus the disastrous story.

Thee own as lord great rivers, barbarous seas;
Thou, where afar the mountain peaks are shining,
Flush'd with the grape dost revel, there at ease
Thy Bacchant's locks unharm'd with vipers twining.

Thou, when the banded giants, impious crew!
By mountain piled on mountain-top were scaling
Thy sire's domains, didst hurl back Rhoecus, through
Thy lion's claws, and jawbone fell prevailing.

Though fitter for the dance, and mirth, and jest,
Than for the battle's deadly shock reputed,
Thou didst approve thyself, o'er all the rest
Alike for peace or warfare aptly suited.

Thee, gloriously bedeck'd with horn of gold,
With gently wagging tail soothed Cerberus greeted,
And lick'd thy limbs and feet with tongue threefold,
As from his shady realm thy steps retreated.