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Here in the shelter of the woods we lodged, And frighted heard strange sounds and dismal yells, Nor saw from whence they came; for all the night A murky storm deep lowering o'er our heads Hung imminent, that with impervious gloom Opposed itself to Cynthia's silver ray, And shaded all beneath. But now the sun With orient beams had chased the dewy night From earth and heaven; all Nature stood disclosed; When looking on the neighbouring woods we saw The ghastly visage of a man unknown, An uncouth feature, meagre, pale, and wild; Affliction's foul and terrible dismay Sat in his looks, his face impair’d and worn With marks of famine, speaking sore distress ; His locks were tangled, and his shaggy beard Matted with filth ; in all things else a Greek.
He first advanced in haste; but when he saw Trojans and Trojan arms, in mid career Stopp'd short, he back recoild as one surprised; But soon recovering speed, he ran, he flew Precipitant, and thus with piteous cries Our ears assail'd: ‘By Heaven's eternal fires ! By every god that sits enthroned on high! By this good light! relieve a wretch forlorn, And bear me hence to any distant shore, So I may shun this savage race accursed. 'Tis true I fought among the Greeks that late With sword and fire o’erturn’d Neptunian Troy, And laid the labour of the gods in dust; For which, if so the sad offence deserves, Plunged in the deep, for ever let me lie Whelm’d under seas; if death must be my doom, Let man inflict it, and I die well pleased.
He ended here, and now, profuse of tears, In suppliant mood fell prostrate at our feet: Webade him speak from whence, and what he was, And how by stress of fortune sunk thus low. Anchises, too, with friendly aspect mild, Gave him his hand, sure pledge of amity ; When, thus encouraged, he began his tale.
• I'm one, (says he) of poor descent, my name Is Achæmenides, my country Greece, Ulysses' sad compeer, who, whilst he fled The raging Cyclops, left me here behind Disconsolate, forlorn; within the cave He left me, giant Polypheme's dark cave; A dungeon wide and horrible, the walls On all sides furred with mouldy damps, and hung With clots of ropy gore, and human limbs, His dire repast: himself of mighty size, Hoarse in his voice, and in his visage grim, Intractable, that riots on the flesh Of mortal men, and swills the vital blood. Him did I see snatch
with horrid grasp Two sprawling Greeks, in either hand a man; I saw him when with huge tempestuous sway He dash'd and broke them on the grundsil edge; The pavement swam in blood, the walls around Were spatter'do'er with brains: he lapp'd the blood, And chew'd the tender flesh still warm with life, That swell’d and heaved itself amidst his teeth As sensible of pain. Not less, meanwhile, Our chief incensed, and studious of revenge, Plots bis destruction, which he thus effects : The giant, gorged with flesh, and wine, and blood, Lay stretch'd at length and snoring in his den, Belching raw gobbets from his maw, o'ercharged
With purple wine and crudled gore confused:
Roused with the sound, the mighty family
haste Work every one, and from afar behold A host of giants covering all the shore.
So stands a forest tall of mountain oaks
CAROLO MONTAGU ARMIGERO, SCACCHARII CANCELLARIO, ÆRARII PRÆ
FECTO, REGI A SECRETIORIBUS CONSILIIS, ETC.
Cum tanta auribus tuis obstrepat vatum nequissimorum turba, nihil est cur queraris aliquid inusitatum tibi contigisse, ubi præclarum hoc argumentum meis etiam numeris violatum conspexeris. Quantum virtute bellicâ præstant Britanni, recens ex rebus gestis testatur gloria ; quàm verò in humanioribus Pacis studiis non emiņeamus, indicio sunt quos nuper in lucem emisimus versiculi. Quod si Congrevius ille tuus divino, quo solet, furore correptus materiam hanc non exornasset, vix tanti esset ipsa Pax, ut illâ lætaremur tot perditissimis Poëtis tam miserè decantata. At, dum alios insector, mei ipsius oblitus fuisse videor, qui haud minores forsan ex Latinis tibi molestias allaturus sum, quàm quas illi ex vernaculis suis carminibus attulerunt; nisi quod inter ipsos cruciatus lenimentum aliquod dolori tribuat tormenti varietas. Nec quidem unquam adduci possem, ut poëma patrio sermone conscriptum oculis tuis subjicerem, qui ab istis conatibus cæteros omnes scribendo non minùs deterres, quam favendo excitaveris.