Thou thinkest we will rend thee bone from bone, And nerve from nerve, working like fire within! […] —————————— ………………………………………………… What art thou like? […] Bacchus is sometimes represented like an infant, holding a thyrsus and clusters of grapes, with a horn. […] Strange sweet Echo, even like thee replying.” […] art hath nought like this, the very air Breatheth of beauty, banishing despair.”