Ask not the numbers of my growing store;
Who knows how many, knows he has no more.
Nor will I praise my cattle; truft not me, 125
But judge yourself, and pafs your own decree:
Behold their fwelling dugs; the fweepy weight
Of ewes, that fink 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 ferv'd
For daily drink; the reft for cheese referv'd.
Nor are thefe houfhold dainties all my ftore:
The fields and forefts will afford us more;
The deer, the hare, the goat, the favage boar.
All forts of venifon; and of birds the beft; 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 diftinction could be feen; 140
So pretty, they were prefents for a queen;
And fo they fhall; I took them both away;
And keep, to be companions of your play.
Oh raise, fair nymph, your beauteous face
The waves; nor fcorn my presents, and my
Come, Galatea, come, and view my
I lat beheld it in the watery glass,
And found it lovelier, than I fear'd it was.
Survey my towering ftature, and my fize: Not Jove, the Jove you dream, that rules the fkies,
Bears fuch a bulk, or is fo largely spread:
My locks (the plenteous harveft of my head)
Hang o'er my manly face; and dangling down,
As with a fhady grove, my fhoulders crown.
Nor think, because my limbs and body bear 155
A thick-fet underwood of bristling hair,
My shape deform'd: what fouler fight can be,
Than the bald branches of a leaflefs tree?
Foul is the fteed without a flowing mane;
And birds, without their feathers, and their
Wool decks the sheep; and man receives a grace
From bufhy limbs, and from a bearded face.
My forehead with a fingle eye is fill'd,
Round as a ball, and ample as a fhield.
The glorious lamp of heaven, the radiant fun, 165
Is Nature's eye; and fhe's content with one.
Add, that my father fways your feas, 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 alone:
Jove, with his fabled thunder, I defpife,
And only fear the lightning of your eyes.
Frown not, fair nymph; yet I could bear to be
Difdain'd, if others were difdain'd with me.
But to repulfe 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 moft abhor;
The boy fhall find, if e'er we cope in fight, These giant limbs endu'd with giant might. 180 His living bowels from his belly torn,
And fcatter'd limbs, fhall 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 difdain 185
Augments at once my paffion, and my pain.
Tranflated Ætna flames within
And thou, inhuman, wilt not ease
my fmart.
Lamenting thus in vain, he rofe, and strode
With furious paces to the neighbouring wood:
Reftlefs his feet, diftracted 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 miftrefs, and forfake the field.
Thus far unfeen I faw: when, fatal chance 195 His looks directing, with a fudden glance, Acis and I were to his fight betray'd; Where, nought fufpecting, we fecurely play'd. From his wide mouth a bellowing cry he caft; I fee, I fee, but this shall be your laft.
A roar fo loud made Etna to rebound;
And all the Cyclops labour'd in the found.
Affrighted with his monftrous voice, I fled,
And in the neighbouring ocean plung'd my
Poor Acis turn'd his back, and, Help, he cry'd,
Help, Galatea! help, my parent gods,
And take me dying to your deep abodes!
The Cyclops follow'd; but he fent before
A rib, which from the living rock he tore :
Though but an angle reach'd him of the ftone,
The mighty fragment was enough alone
To crush all Acis; 'twas too late to fave,
But what the fates allow'd to give, I gave :
That Acis to his lineage fhould return;
And roll, among the river gods, his urn.
Straight iffued from the ftone a ftream of blood;
Which loft the purple, mingling with the flood.
Then like a troubled torrent it appear'd:
The torrent too, in little space, was clear'd.
The ftone was cleft, and through the yawning
New reeds arofe, on the new river's brink.
The rock, from out its hollow womb, difclos'd
A found like water in its courfe oppos'd:
When (wondrous to behold) full in the flood
Up ftarts a youth, and navel-high he ftood. 225
Horns from his temples rife; and either horn Thick wreaths of reeds (his native growth) adorn.
Were not his ftature taller than before,
His bulk augmented, and his beauty more,
His colour blue, for Acis he might pass:
And Acis chang'd into a ftream he was.
But mine no more, he rolls along the plains
With rapid motion, and his name retains.
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