A Banquet Song - Alcæus of Mytilene

The rain of Zeus descends, and from high heaven
          A storm is driven:
And on the running water-brooks the cold
          Lays icy hold;
Then up: beat down the winter; make the fire
          Blaze high and higher;
Mix wine as sweet as honey of the bee
          Abundantly;
Then drink with comfortable wool around
          Your temples bound.
We must not yield our hearts to woe, or wear
          With wasting care;
For grief will profit us no whit, my friend,
          Nor nothing mend;
But this is our best medicine, with wine fraught
          To cast out thought.

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Alcæus of Mytilene (c. 620–c. 580 B.C.) Greece
Translated by John Addington Symonds
Source: Library of World’s Best Literature. Charles Dudley Warner, et al. Warner Library Co., 1917