They sigh’d for pleasures gone, they groan’d for heroes dead; }
Their ancient stores were rifled—strong desires 470
Awaked, and wine rekindled latent fires.
It was a night such bold desires to move:
Strong winds and wintry torrents fill’d the grove;
The crackling boughs that in the forest fell,
The cawing rooks, the cur’s affrighten’d yell,
The scenes above the wood, the floods below, }
Were mix’d, and none the single sound could know; }
“Loud blow the blasts,” they cried, “and call us as they blow. }