But all unpluck'd the purple clusters hung,

Nor more of Linus did the minstrel sing,

For he and all the folk were following,

Wine-stain'd and garlanded, in merry bands,

Like men when Dionysus came as king,

And led his revel from the sun-burnt lands,

So from afar the music and the shout

Roll'd up to Ilios and the Scaean gate,