|The Rhyme Maker
A Jar Of Wine (Ode 3.21 – Field)
is addressing a "crock" of wine that shares his birthday,
the year of "Manlius' consulate" (65bce)
can be a wordy lot. The abridged version of this poem: WINE
GREAT! (stanzas 1 and 2) LET’S PARTY ‘TILL THE SUN COMES UP!
stanza] Cato: Roman official and noted historian, known as “Cato,
the Elder". He (and his great-great grandson, Cato, the
Younger) were rather moralistic and prudish fellows.
stanza] Venus: the goddess of love. The Graces: three sister
goddesses who could grant beauty, charm, and happiness.
another name for Apollo, here in his role as the sun god: you know,
the dude in charge of pulling the sun across the sky with his
- S. H. Bass
comrade in the days when thou and I (Martin)
hold! 'Tis for Thracian madmen (Martin)
pomp of Persian feast (de Vere)
common Sabine wine (Martin)
Spring's companion, Thracian gales (Gladstone)
Than you, O valued friend of mine (Field)
Quintus Dellius (Field)
Women, and Song (Field)
Tributes to Horace:
On A Wine Of Horace's by Franklin P. Adams
precious crock (Ode 3.21)
(65-8 bce), Roman poet
by Theodore Martin (1816-1909), Scottish poet
precious crock, whose summers date,
mine, from Manlius' consulate,
wot not whether in your breast
maudlin wail or merry jest,
sudden choler, or the fire
tipsy Love's insane desire,
fumes of soft caressing sleep,
what more potent charms you keep,
this I know, your ripened power
some choicely festive hour!
cup peculiarly mellow
asks; so come, old fellow,
your time-honored bin descend,
let me gratify my friend!
churl is he, your charms to slight,
most intensely erudite:
even old Cato's worth, we know,
from good wine a nobler glow.
magic power of wit can spread
halo round a dullard's head,
make the sage forget his care,
bosom's inmost thoughts unbare,
drown his solemn-faced pretense
your blithesome influence.
hope you bring and vigor back
minds outworn upon the rack,
put such courage in the brain,
makes the poor be men again,
neither tyrants' wrath affrights,
all their bristling satellites.
and Venus, so that she
only frank festivity,
sister Graces in her train,
close in lovely chain,
gladsome tapers' living light,
spread your treasures o'er the night,
Phoebus the red East unbars,
puts to rout the trembling stars.