Girded by Satyr-crew and Nysa-reared SileniBurning with love unto thee (Ariadne!) and greeting thy presence. Who flocking eager to fray did rave with infuriate spirit,"Evoe" frenzying loud, with heads at "Evoe" rolling.Brandisht some of the maids their thyrsi sheathed of spear-point,Some snatcht limbs and joints of sturlings rended to pieces,These girt necks and waists with writhing bodies of vipers,Those with the gear enwombed in crates dark orgies ordained—Orgies that ears profane must vainly lust for o'er hearing—Others with palms on high smote hurried strokes on the cymbal,Or from the polisht brass woke thin-toned tinkling music,While from the many there boomed and blared hoarse blast of the horn-trump,And with its horrid skirl loud shrilled the barbarous bag-pipeShowing such varied forms, that richly-decorated couch-clothFolded in strait embrace the bedding drapery-veiled.This when the Thessalan youths had eyed with eager inspectionFulfilled, place they began to provide for venerate Godheads,