He, who instructs the youthful crew

To bathe them in the brimmer's dew,

And taste, uncloyed by rich excesses,

All the bliss that wine possesses;

He, who inspires the youth to bound

Elastic through the dance's round,—

Bacchus, the god again is here,

And leads along the blushing year;

The blushing year with vintage teems,

Ready to shed those cordial streams,

Which, sparkling in the cup of mirth,

Illuminate the sons of earth![1]

Then, when the ripe and vermil wine,—

Blest infant of the pregnant vine,

Which now in mellow clusters swells,—

Oh! when it bursts its roseate cells,

Brightly the joyous stream shall flow,

To balsam every mortal woe!

None shall be then cast down or weak,

For health and joy shall light each cheek;

No heart will then desponding sigh,

For wine shall bid despondence fly.

Thus—till another autumn's glow

Shall bid another vintage flow.

[1] Madame Dacier thinks that the poet here had the nepenthe of Homer in his mind. Odyssey, lib. iv. This nepenthe was a something of exquisite charm, infused by Helen into the wine of her guests, which had the power of dispelling every anxiety. A French writer, De Mere, conjectures that this spell, which made the bowl so beguiling, was the charm of Helen's conversation. See Bayle, art. Helène.