Horace Odes, 1.18.

     Before the sacred grape vine, Varus, you should plant no other tree in the mild soil of Tibur near the ancient walls of Catilus.
     For Bacchus imposed strict penalties upon the abstemious, nor by any means other than drink do people dispel gnawing cares.
     Who rails at brutal warfare or impoverishment after drinks? Who doesn't prefer talking about you, Father Bacchus, or about you, Fair Venus?
     Indeed, that Centaurean brawl over wine, battled with the Lapiths, advises one not to tread lightly past the gifts of Liber; so advises Evhoe's brutal treatment of the Sithonians, who eagerly learn that sacrilege and religion are thinly distinguished.
     Never shall I rouse you unwilling, Lovely Bassareus, nor ever disclose your sacred emblems, festooned with garlands.
     Keep away your ruthless tambours and the Berecynthian horn. In their wake comes blind Desire for one's own and Pride holding too high her haughty head and Trust that betrays secrets, a personage more transparent than glass.
     — translation RTMacfarlane


     


     Hor. C. 1.18


     Nullam, Vare, sacra vite prius severis arborem
     circa mite solum Tiburis et moenia Catili.
     siccis omnia nam dura deus proposuit neque
     mordaces aliter diffugiunt sollicitudines.
     quis post vina gravem militiam aut pauperiem crepat?
     quis non te potius, Bacche pater, teque, decens Venus?
     ac ne quis modici transiliat munera Liberi,
     Centaurea monet cum Lapithis rixa super mero
     debellata, monet Sithoniis non levis Euhius,
     cum fas atque nefas exiguo fine libidinum
     discernunt avidi. non ego te, candide Bassareu,
     invitum quatiam nec variis obsita frondibus
     sub divum rapiam. saeva tene cum Berecyntio
     cornu tympana, quae subsequitur caecus amor sui
     et tollens vacuum plus nimio gloria verticem 15
     arcanique fides prodiga, perlucidior vitro.