Heap the grassy altar up,Bring vervain, boys, and sacred frankincense;Fill the sacrificial cup;A victim's blood will soothe her vehemence.

Not large my cups, nor rich my cheer,This Sabine wine, which erst I seal'd,That day the applauding theatreYour welcome peal'd,Dear knight Maecenas! as 'twere fainThat your paternal river's banks,And Vatican, in sportive strain,Should echo thanks.For you Calenian grapes are press'd,And Caecuban; these cups of mineFalernum's bounty ne'er has bless'd,Nor Formian vine.