Back to their mansions in the azure sky.
* * * * *
The clouds dispers’d, and Bacchus starts afresh,
Drinks deep the purple, which inflames his flesh;
Sends his rude orisons again on high;
But they heed not his pray’rs: then, with a sigh,
And almost mad, he strikes his breast, and saith:
“Ye gods, be damn’d.” And now, all in a breath,
He uttereth a prayer to him above,
Beseeching, plaintively, the mighty Jove: