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| − | [[Category:Roman religion]]
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| − | ==Anomynous Elegy to Maecenus 1.57-68==
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| − | O Bacchus, after we defeated the dark tanned Indians, You drank sweet
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| − | wine from Your helmet and, carefree, You loosened Your tunic. It was
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| − | then I suppose that You dressed in rich purple finery. I am mindful
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| − | of those times, and certainly recall those snow-white arms shining
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| − | brightly that led the thyrsus and how You adorned it with gems and
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| − | gold, and ivy wound thereon as well. Surely silver slippers bound
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| − | you feet, this, I think, Bacchus, You will not deny. Softer than You
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| − | usually gave in the many times You counseled me, then was brought
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| − | forth new words upon Your lips
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| − |
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| − | ==Caesius Bassius Hymn of Callimachus==
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| − | Come, O Lyaeus, bihorned Bassareus, two-mothered Maenalius, come into
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| − | this place I prepare with sleek, shiny hair. May You arouse with a
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| − | crown of ivy and golden clusters of grapes, and bear shaft of new
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| − | green wood, O Gentle One, may You come to this altar, Bacchus,
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| − | Bacchus, Bacchus.
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| − |
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| − | ==Flores Carmina 2==
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| − | Bacchus, inventor of vines, may you arrive full of wines,
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| − | may you pour forth the sweet liquid, to be compared with nectar,
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| − | and make the old pleasant, and turned to another use,
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| − | may it not lead harsh flavor to our spiteful veins
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| − | ==Grattius Cynegetica 475-76==
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| − | Liber expels light cares from the heart, Liber brings soothing relief
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| − | from distress.
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| − | Liber expels pains from the chest, Liber bears medicine to soothe a
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| − | fever.
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| − |
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| − | ==Horace Carmina 2.19.7-8 ==
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| − | Euhoe! Save me Liber, spare me grave master of the fearful ivy-rod.
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| − | ==Horace Carmina 3.25.19-20==
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| − | In spring, O Lenaeus Bacchus, I follow You, a god wreathed with ivy.
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| − |
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| − | ==Nemesianus Eclogue 2.20-24==
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| − | O Dryades who live in the forest, and Napaeas who live in caves, and
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| − | Naides whose gleaming white feet pass through waves upon the shore
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| − | and promote purple violets to grow on grassy slopes, tell me of my
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| − | Donaces who I came upon under the shadows, in the meadow where she
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| − | plucked up roses and the shoots of lilies pruned?
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| − | ==Ovid Fasti 3.789-90==
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| − | Turn Your head with complacent horns to me, Father Bacchus, and give
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| − | my genius a fair wind to follow
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| − |
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| − | ==Ovid Metamorphoses 4.11-21; 31 ==
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| − | Bacchus they call you, and Bromius, and Lyaeus, born in fire, and
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| − | Savior also, who alone was born of two mothers. Revered as a God in
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| − | Nyseus, unshorn Thyoneus, joyful Lenaeus, the sower of grapes, Lord
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| − | of Nocturnal Revelries, the Bullroarer, and by many more names,
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| − | Liber, are You known among the Greeks. Adored for your eternal
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| − | youth, a youth everlasting, you the most beautiful among the
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| − | celestial Gods high above, to You are sacrifices made when You,
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| − | without horns upon Your most virgin head, are near and lend us Your
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| − | assistance. Arising victorious in the East, illuminating those
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| − | distant lands faded in memory, to outermost India as far as the banks
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| − | of the Ganges.
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| − | Calm and mild, may you come to us.
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| − | ==Ovid Metamorphoses 11.131-32==
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| − | Forgive me, Father Bacchus, I was mistaken, but have pity, I pray,
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| − | and command that I should be torn from your beauty.
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| − | ==Propertius Eligiae 3.17.1-20 ==
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| − | O Bacchus, humbly now I approach Your altar.
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| − | Grant tranquil seas for me, Father, and a fair wind in my sails.
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| − | You are able to tame even the rages of Venus; Your wine a cure for
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| − | our sorrows.
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| − | By You are lovers bound to one another; by You are their bonds
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| − | dissolved.
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| − | O Bacchus, cleanse my soul of fault.
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| − | Truly also You cannot attest to be ignorant of my sorrow
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| − | when it was your lynxes that carried Ariadne off to the stars,
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| − | like You there is an old flame still burning in my bones.
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| − | Only wine or death may rid us of our ills.
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| − | Truly an empty night alone and sober spent always torments lovers;
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| − | where hopes and fears churn in the mind of one or the other.
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| − | But if, Bacchus, Your gift could soothe my fevered mind and bring
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| − | sleep to my wearied bones, then I'll plant vines and fasten them in
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| − | orderly rows upon my hills, and myself stand guard less wild beasts
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| − | should pluck them.
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| − | When my vats fill foaming purple with must, and new wine presses have
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| − | stained my feet with grapes, then it will be enough for me to live
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| − | with Your vines and in Your horned presence,
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| − | O Bacchus, I, Your poet, shall sing.
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| − | ==Statius Thebaid 4.383-404==
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| − | Almighty Father of Nysa, who long has passed from loving your
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| − | ancestral rites in distant India, who now is swiftly borne beneath
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| − | the frozen North to shake warlike Ismara with your thyrsus, you,
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| − | Bacchus, who now urges the grapevines to overgrow the realm of
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| − | Lycurgus, or you who is swelling the Ganges and the Red Sea, to the
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| − | farthest Eastern lands, rushing forward and shouting in triumph, or
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| − | who from the springs of Hermus rises forth golden, but we, your
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| − | progeny, have had to lay aside such arms that do you honor at
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| − | festivals, instead to bear war and tears, alarm and similar horrors,
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| − | the burdens of unjust reigns. Rather than speak to you once more of
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| − | the monstrous acts of these leaders and of their vulgar progeny,
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| − | rather would I have you carry me across the eternally frozen lands
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| − | beyond the Caucasus Mountains where Amazons howl out their war cries.
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| − | Behold, you press me hard, Bacchus. Far different from the frenzy I
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| − | had sworn to you, I saw the clash of two bulls, both alike in honor
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| − | and sharing one lineage, butting heads and locking their horns in
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| − | fierce combat and both perish in their shared wrath. You are the
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| − | worse evil. You depart. Guilty are you who pray that he alone should
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| − | gain possession of ancestral pastures and hills whose ownership is
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| − | shared with others. Evil one, born of the wretched, so much has
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| − | warfare and bloodshed brought you; now another leader holds your
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| − | glades and pastures.
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| − |
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| − | ==Sulpicia 4.5.9==
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| − | Grant, O natal Genius, all my heart's desires, and expensive incense
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| − | I shall burn upon your altar.
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| − | ==Tibullus 2.1.3-4; 17-20==
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| − | Come to us, Bacchus, with clusters of grapes dangling from your
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| − | horns, and you, too, Ceres, a wreath of newly ripened wheat for your
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| − | temples, come!
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| − | Gods of our fathers, we purify our farmers and our fruitful fields;
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| − | we ask that you drive away harm from our borders. Let not the now
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| − | sprouting plants succumb before harvest, let not the timid lambs be
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| − | outrun by swift wolves.
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| − |
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| − | ==Tibullus 3.6.1-4==
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| − | Splendid Liber, draw near to me! With your forever mystical vine,
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| − | and your ivy bound head, carry off my sorrows, in the same manner as
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| − | you have so often used wine's healing powers to overcome the pangs of
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| − | love.
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| − | ==Virgil Georgics 2.2-8==
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| − | Now shall I sing of you, Bacchus. Without you there would be no
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| − | woodland or thicket, or slow growing olive grove. Come hither, O
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| − | Lenaean Father, all things here beckon to be nurtured by your many
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| − | gifts, the autumn vineshoots laden the countryside with blossoms, the
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| − | vintage grape harvest foams plentiful to the lips of the wine vats.
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| − | Hasten, O Lenaean Father, come and, stripped down, tinge your naked
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| − | feet in new wine must with me.
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