Odes 3.8 (Martin): Martiis Coelebs

Why a bachelor such as myself should disport
On the Kalends of March, what these garlands import,
What the censer with incense fill'd full, you inquire,
And the green turf, with charcoal laid ready to fire?
If the cause of all these preparations you seek.
You, versed in the lore both of Latin and Greek,
It is this! That I vow'd, when nigh kill'd by the blow
Of yon tree, unto Liber a goat white as snow,
With festival rites; and the circling year now
Has brought round the day that I offer'd my vow.
'Tis a day, which the well-rosin'd cork shall unyoke
Of the jar, that was set to be fined in the smoke,
When Tullius was Consul. In cups without end
Then pledge me, Maecenas, for safe is thy friend;
Let the dawn find our lamps still ablaze, and afar
From our revel be anger, and clamour and jar!
Your cares for the weal of the city dismiss,
And why should you not, at a season like this?
There is Dacian Cotiso's army is shent,
And the Median by discords intestine is rent;
The vanquish'd Cantabrian yonder in Spain
Submits after long years of strife to our chain,
And the Scythians, unbending their bows in despair,
To fly from the plains they had ravaged prepare,
Then a respite from public anxieties steal.
Feel the easy indifference private men feel.
Snatch gayly the joys which the moment shall bring,
And away every care and perplexity fling.