Sidor som bilder

Than apples fairer, when the boughs they lade; Pleasing; as winter funs, or summer shade: More grateful to the fight than goodly plains ; And softer to the touch than down of swans, 75 Or curds new turn'd ; and sweeter to the taste Than swelling grapes, that to the vintage haste: More clear than ice, or running streams, that

stray Through garden plots, but ah! more swift than

they. Yet, Galatea, harder to be broke Than bullocks, unreclaim'd to bear the yoke: And far more stubborn than the knotted oak: Like Niding streams, impossible to hold; Like them fallacious; like their fountains, cold: More warping than the willow, to decline My warm embrace; more brittle than the




Immoveable, and fixt in thy disdain:
Rough, as these rocks, and of a harder grain;
More violent than is the rising food :
And the prais'd peacock is not half so proud: 90
Fierce as the fire, and iharp as thistles are;
And more outrageous than a mother-bear:
Deaf as the billows to the vows I make;
And more revengeful than a trodden snake :
In swiftness feeter than the flying hind,

95 Or driven tempefts, or the driving wind.



All other faults with patience I can bear;
But swiftness is the vice I only fear.

Yet, if you knew me well, you would not shun My love, but to my wish'd embraces run: Would languish in your turn, and court my stay; And much repent of your unwise delay.

My palace, in the living rock, is made By nature's hand; a spacious pleasing shade; Which neither heat can pierce, nor cold in

vade. My garden fill’d with fruits you may behold, And

grapes in clusters, imitating gold ; Some blushing bunches of a purple hue : And these, and those, are all reserv'd for

you. Red strawberries in shades expecting stand, 110 Proud to be gather'd by so white a hand. Autumnal cornels latter fruit provide, And plumbs, to tempt you, turn their glofly

side : Not those of common kinds; but such alone, As in Phæacian orchards might have grown: 115 Nor chesnuts shall be wanting to your food, Nor garden-fruits, nor wildings of the wood; The laden boughs for you alone shall bear; And yours shall be the product of the year. 119

The flocks, you see, are all my own; beside The rest that woods and winding vallies hide; And those that folded in the caves abide.

Ask not the numbers of my growing store; Who knows how many, knows he has no more. Nor will I praise my cattle ; trust not me, 125 But judge yourself, and pass your own decree : Behold their swelling dugs; the sweepy weight Of ewes, that sink beneath the milky freight; In the warm folds their tender lambkins lie; Apart from kids, that call with human cry. 130 New milk in nut-brown bowls is duly serv'd For daily drink; the rest for cheese reserv’d. Nor are these houshold dainties all


store : The fields and forests will afford us more; The deer, the hare, the goat, the favage boar. All sorts of venison; and of birds the best; 136 A pair of turtles taken from the neft. I walk'd the mountains, and two cubs I found, Whose dam had left 'em on the naked ground; So like, that no distinction could be seen; 140 So pretty, they were presents for a queen ; And so they shall; I took them both away; And keep, to be companions of

your play. Oh raise, fair nymph, your beauteous face

above The waves; nor scorn my presents, and my

Come, Galatea, come, and view my face;
I lat beheld it in the watery glass,
And found it lovelier, than I fear'd it was,




Survey my towering fiature, and my

size: Not Jove, the Jove you dream, that rules the

skies, Bears such a bulk, or is so largely spread : My locks (the plenteous harvest of my head) Hang o'er my manly face; and dangling down, As with a shady grove, my shoulders crown. Nor think, because


limbs and body bear 155 A thick-set underwood of bristling bair, My shape deform’d: what fouler fight can be, Than the bald branches of a leaflefs tree? Foul is the steed without a flowing mane; And birds, without their feathers, and their train.

Wool decks the sheep; and man receives a grace
From bushy limbs, and from a bearded face.
My forehead with a single eye is fill’d,
Round as a ball, and ample as a shield.
The glorious lamp of heaven, the radiant fun, 165
Is Nature's eye; and she's content with one.
Add, that

my father fways your seas, and I,
Like you, am of the watry family.
I make you his, in making you my own;
You I adore, and kneel to you

Jove, with his fabled thunder, I despise,
And only fear the lightning of your eyes.
Frown not, fair nymph; yet I could bear to be
Disdain'd, if others were disdain'd with me,


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in fight,

But to repulse the Cyclops, and prefer
The love of Acis, heav'ns! I cannot bear.
But let the stripling please himself ; nay more,
Please you, though that's the thing I most

The boy shall find, if e'er we cope
These giant limbs endu'd with giant might. 180
His living bowels from his belly torn,
And scatter'd limbs, shall on the flood be born,
Thy flood, ungrateful nymph; and fate shall

find That way

for thee and Acis to be join'd. For oh ! I burn with love, and thy disdain 185 Augments at once my passion, and my pain. Translated Ætna flames within my heart, And thou, inhuman, wilt not ease my

smart. Lamenting thus in vain, he rose, and strode With furious paces to the neighbouring wood: Restless his feet, distracted was his walk; Mad were his motions, and confus'd his talk. Mad as the vanquish'd bull, when forc'd to yield His lovely mistress, and forsake the field.

Thus far unseen I saw: when, fatal chance 195 His looks directing, with a sudden glance, Acis and I were to his fight betray’d; Where, nought suspecting, we securely play’d. From his wide mouth a bellowing cry he cast; I fee, I see, but this shall be





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