BACCHUS AND ARIADNE.
Leonardi. 'Tis finished now: look on my picture, Love!
Alvine. Oh, that sweet ring of graceful figures! One
Flings her white arms on high, and gaily strikes
Her golden cymbals—I can almost deem
I hear their beatings; one with glancing feet
Follows her music, while her crimson cheek
Is flushed with exercise, till the red grape
'Mid the dark tresses of a sister nymph
Is scarcely brighter: there another stands,
A darker spirit yet, with joyous brow,
