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'The giant spoke, and through the hollow rock
Dismiss'd the ram, the father of the flock.
No sooner freed, and through the' enclosure pass'd,
First I release myself, my fellows last :

Fat sheep and goats in throngs we drive before,
And reach our vessel on the winding shore.
With joy the sailors view their friends return'd,
And hail us living whom as dead they mourn'd.
Big tears of transport stand in every eye:
I check their fondness, and command to fly.
Aboard in haste they heave the wealthy sheep,
And snatch their oars, and rush into the deep.
Now off at sea, and from the shallows clear,
As far as human voice could reach the ear;
With taunts the distant giant I accost,
"Hear me, O Cyclop! hear, ungracious host!
'Twas on no coward, no ignoble slave,
Thou meditatest thy meal in yonder cave;
But one, the vengeance fated from above

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Doom'd to inflict; the instrument of Jove.
Thy barbarous breach of hospitable bands,
The god, the god revenges by my hands."

These words the Cyclop's burning rage pro-
From the tall hill he rends a pointed rock; [voke:
High o'er the billows flew the massy load,
And near the ship came thundering on the flood.
It almost brush'd the helm, and fell before:
The whole sea shook, and refluent beat the shore.
The strong concussion on the heaving tide
Roll'd back the vessel to the island's side:
Again I shoved her off; our fate to fly,
Each nerve we stretch, and every oar we ply.
Just scaped impending death, when now again
We twice as far had furrow'd back the main,

Once more I raise my voice; my friends afraid
With mild entreaties my design dissuade :
"What boots the godless giant to provoke,
Whose arm may sink us at a single stroke?
Already, when the dreadful rock he threw,
Old Ocean shook, and back his surges flew.
The sounding voice directs his aim again;
The rock o'erwhelms us, and we scaped in vain."
But I, of mind elate, and scorning fear,

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Thus with new taunts insult the monster's ear:
"Cyclop! if any, pitying thy disgrace,
Ask who disfigured thus that eyeless face?
Say 'twas Ulysses; 'twas his deed, declare,
Laertes' son, of Ithaca the fair;

Ulysses, far in fighting fields renown'd,
Before whose arm Troy tumbled to the ground."
'The' astonish'd savage with a roar replies:
"O heavens! O faith of ancient prophecies!
This, Telemus Eurymedes foretold

(The mighty seer who on these hills grew old;
Skill'd the dark fates of mortals to declare,
And learn'd in all wing'd omens of the air),
Long since he menaced,such was Fate's command;
And named Ulysses as the destined hand.
I deem'd some godlike giant to behold,
Or lofty hero, haughty, brave, and bold;
Not this weak pigmy wretch, of mean design,
Who not by strength subdued me, but by wine.
But come, accept our gifts, and join to pray
Great Neptune's blessing on the watery way:
For his I am, and I the lineage own:
The' immortal father no less boasts the son.
His
power can heal me, and relight my eye;
And only his, of all the gods on high."

"Oh! could this arm (I thus aloud rejoin'd) From that vast bulk dislodge thy bloody mind, And send thee howling to the realms of night! As sure as Neptune cannot give thee sight.”

Thus I while raging he repeats his cries, With hands uplifted to the starry skies: [hurl'd "Hear me, O Neptune! thou whose arms are From shore to shore, and gird the solid world. If thine I am, nor thou my birth disown, And if the' unhappy Cyclop be thy son; Let not Ulysses breathe his native air, Laertes' son, of Ithaca the fair.

If to review his country be his fate,

Be it through toils and sufferings, long and late;
His lost companions let him first deplore;
Some vessel, not his own, transport him o'er;
And when at home from foreign sufferings freed,
More near and deep, domestic woes succeed!"

With imprecations thus he fill'd the air,
And angry Neptune heard the' unrighteous prayer.
A larger rock then heaving from the plain,
He whirl'd it round: it sung across the main;
It fell, and brush'd the stern: the billows roar,
Shake at the weight, and refluent beat the shore.
With all our force we kept aloof to sea,
And gain'd the island where our vessels lay.
Our sight the whole collected navy cheer'd,
Who, waiting long, by turns had hoped and feared.
There disembarking on the green sea-side,
We land our cattle, and the spoil divide :
Of these due shares to every sailor fall;
The master ram was voted mine by all:
And him (the guardian of Ulysses' fate)
With pious mind to Heaven I consecrate.

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