nec facilis laeto certasse, Falerne, sapori, postquam iterata tibi sunt pocula, iam pede risum, iam lingua titubante moves, patrique Lyaeo tempora quassatus grates et praemia digna vix intellectis conaris reddere verbis, donec composuit luctantia lumina Somnus, Somnus, Bacche, tibi comes additus.
Falernus found it hard to strive against the cheerful draught: when he had drunk once again of the cup, his stammering tongue and staggering feet roused mirth. With splitting head he tried, though he could not speak plain, to render thanks and praise to Father Lyaeus; and at last Sleep, who goes ever in the train of Bacchus, closed his reluctant eyes.
final_alignments\Silius_Italicus_Punica_Book7.json