Re-beat his gong,—the vassal host around,
Quick as a flash of lightning, then upheld
Their polish’d dirks on high, and then re-yell’d!
The mighty magistrates, obeying the sound,
Inclined their heads, and knelt upon the ground:
The while, Apollo (and his mirthful throng)
Came forth, repeating the triumphant song—
“Hail, Pluto, mighty King!”—around him slung
His instrument of joy,—his eye relit
With his accustom’d dignity and wit.