Which ’lectrified the god! then he updrew,
Rais’d both his arms, and, like a trumpet, blew
A sound across the purple-cluster’d plain.
Altho’ he lack’d Apollo’s dulcet strain,
The nymphs admired him for his manly look,
For when he moved the very vineprops shook;
Yea—when he spake, the clouds obey’d his voice,
And stood divided that he might rejoice
Beneath the oriental mid-day sky,
With Sol direct on his revolving eye.