Horace Ode 2.7

O often lead at the final monent with me with Brutus as leader of the campaign, who restored you as a Quiritis to paternal gods and the Italian sky, Pompeius, first of my comrades? With whom I often broke the lingering day with wine, wreathed (in respect to) my hair with Syrian ointment-plant. With you I knew Philippi and swift flight, my little shield having been not well left behind, when courage broke and threatening ones touched the base ground with the chin. But swift Mercury lifted me fearful in a dense cloud through the enemies; a wave swallowing you down again into the war bore (you) in boiling seas. Therefore render the feast owed to Jove and lay down a side weary from long campaign under my laurel, nor spare the jars arranged for you. Fill the light drinking-cup with Massic causing forgetfulness; pour perfumed oils from spacious shells. Who undertakes to hasten for garlands of moist celery and myrtle? Whom will Venus designate overseer of the drinking? I shall revel not more sanely than Edonians: with my friend recovered it is sweet for me to be wild.