Brighter the night, and whiter every cot
And glancing spire that silvers in the moon;
Intensely glows each little garden plot;
The sparkling villages at random strewn
Along the brooding shore, where Bacchus, boon
Companion of the merry crowd, once held
His regal court: his prudent subjects soon
Stripped off his purple vestments, and rebelled,
And wisely still disown the Monarch they expelled.