There saw at large the hostile plot disclosed,
And his own plans with silent care disposed:
While Bernheim bade his quarter'd troops prepare
At earliest dawn the toils of war to share.
The weak he strengthen'd, and confirm'd the brave,
Arranged each band, and due directions gave.

Then to their stations baste the joyful powers,
And cheat with various sport the midnight hours.
Some brighten up their arms to polish'd flame,
And shake the sword, as in the field of fame:
Some crown the bowl, to chase dull fears away,
And end in long debauch the task of day.
Some court the aid of sleep, whose soft relief
Weighs down the eye of care, and smooths the thorns of Grief.
Enfolded in his golden wings they lie,
And fancied triumphs swell in every eye:
Each bounds in thought the airy champaign o'er,
And grasps the prize, distain'd with streaming gore.

Now move the summoned peers, a shining train,
To where the palace glitters o'er the plain.
The opening gate receives the pompous throng;
Thence to the festive room they move along,
Where tapers, rang'd in lofty rows, display
An added splendour, and nocturnal day.
There, till the close of night, the bowls go round,
And the full board with luxury is crown'd.