In flowing measure, filled with flame and sprite.”
Or, if this be too scholarly and artificial, there are the far more beautiful lines of Beaumont and Fletcher:—
“God Lysæus, ever young,
Ever honoured, ever sung,
Stained with blood of lusty grapes;
In a thousand antic shapes
Dance upon the maze’s brim,
In the crimson liquor swim;
From thy plenteous hand divine
Let a river run with wine;