[266]In baskets thus up-piled, the cluster’d grapes,
Or black or pearly-white, cut from deep ranks
Of spreading vines, whose tendrils curling twined
In silver, heavy-foliaged: near them rose
The ranks of vines, by Vulcan’s curious craft
Figured in gold. The vines leaf-shaking curl’d
Round silver props. They therefore on their way
Pass’d jocund to one minstrel’s flageolet,
Burthen’d with grapes that blacken’d in the sun.
Some also trod the wine-press, and some quaff’d