His eagle eyes were now bedimm’d with tears,—
He mourn’d for him he’d known a thousand years;
And more than once his sighs were loud indeed:
In his sad countenance the heart could read
Th’ amount of sorrow his grave breast contained;
His strength of mind increasing tears restrained;
And to denote his senatorial rights,
Brought down with him his seven satellites:
He, punctual as to time, was at his post,—
There murm’ring forth “O Bacchus, Bacchus, lost”