From many a Mænad throat.
And nigh to Caria’s craggy shore,
Cos with her blushing winy store
His sweeping view can note.
Anon, sublime he soars above
Thy temple, Atabyrian Jove,
The lord of cloudless Rhodes,[[8]]
Where Telchins wise, with busy clamour,
Who shape the steel beneath the hammer,
Possess their famed abodes: