XXVII.

Boy, young caterer of Falernian olden, Brim me cups of a fiercer harsher essence; So Postumia, queen of healths presiding, Bids, less thirsty the thirsty grape, the toper. But dull water, avaunt. Away the wine-cup's 5 Sullen enemy; seek the sour, the solemn! Here Thyonius hails his own elixir.