Sunt verba voces quibus hunc lenire dolorem

Note Horace saying:

Sunt verba voces quibus hunc lenire dolorem
Possis, Magnam morbi deponere partem

(Words will avail the wretched mind to ease
and much abate the dismal black disease.)

Similarly, Keats in Endymion speaks for beauty:

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkened ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits.

Thats make me think that Horace was a romantic at heart.