Classic Poem

The cave we found, but vacant all within,
(His flock the Giant tended on the green)
But round the grott we gaze, and all we view
In order rang'd, our admiration drew:
The bending shelves with loads of cheeses prest,
The folded flocks each sep'rate from the rest,
(The larger here, and there the lesser lambs,
The new-fall'n young here bleating for their dams;
The kid distinguish'd from the lambkin lies:)
The cavern ecchoes with responsive cries.
Capacious chargers all around were lay'd,
Full pails, and vessels of the milking trade.
With fresh provision hence our fleet to store
My friends advise me, and to quit the shore;
Or drive a flock of sheep and goats away,
Consult our safety, and put off to sea.
Their wholsome counsel rashly I declin'd,
Curious to view the man of monstrous kind,
And try what social rites a savage lends:
Dire rites alas! and fatal to my friends!
Then first a fire we kindle, and prepare
For his return with sacrifice and prayer.
The loaden shelves afford us full repast;
We sit expecting. Lo! he comes at last.
Near half a forest on his back he bore,
And cast the pond'rous burden at the door.
It thunder'd as it fell. We trembled then,
And sought the deep recesses of the den.
Now driv'n before him, thro' the arching rock,
Came tumbling, heaps on heaps, th' unnumber'd flock:
Big-udder'd ewes, and goats of female kind,
(The males were penn'd in outward courts behind)
Then, heav'd on high, a rock's enormous weight
To the cave's mouth he roll'd, and clos'd the gate.
(Scarce twenty four-wheel'd cars, compact and strong,
The massy load cou'd bear, or roll along)
He next betakes him to his evening cares,
And sitting down, to milk his flocks prepares;
Of half their udders eases first the dams,
Then to the mother's teats submits the lambs.
Half the white stream to hard'ning cheese he prest,
And high in wicker baskets heap'd: the rest
Reserv'd in bowls, supply'd his nightly feast.
His labour done, he fir'd the pyle that gave
A sudden blaze, and lighted all the cave:
We stand discover'd by the rising fires;
Askance the giant glares, and thus enquires.
What are ye, guests? on what adventure, say,
Thus far ye wander thro' the wat'ry way?
Pyrates perhaps, who seek thro' seas unknown
The lives of others, and expose your own?
His voice like thunder thro' the cavern sounds:
My bold companions thrilling fear confounds,
Appall'd at sight of more than mortal man!
At length, with heart recover'd, I began.
From Troy's fam'd fields, sad wand'rers o'er the main,
Behold the relicks of the Grecian train!
Thro' various seas by various perils tost,
And forc'd by storms, unwilling, on your coast;
Far from our destin'd course, and native land,
Such was our fate, and such high Jove's command!
Nor what we are befits us to disclaim,
Atrides' friends, (in arms a mighty name)
Who taught proud Troy and all her sons to bow;
Victors of late, but humble suppliants now!
Low at thy knee thy succour we implore;
Respect us, human, and relieve us, poor.
At least some hospitable gift bestow;
'Tis what the happy to th' unhappy owe:
'Tis what the Gods require: Those Gods revere,
The poor and stranger are their constant care;
To Jove their cause, and their revenge belongs,
He wanders with them, and he feels their wrongs.
Fools that ye are! (the Savage thus replies,
His inward fury blazing at his eyes)
Or strangers, distant far from our abodes,
To bid me rev'rence or regard the Gods.
Know then we Cyclops are a race above
Those air-bred people, and their goat-nurs'd Jove:
And learn our pow'r proceeds with thee and thine,
Not as He wills, but as our selves incline.
But answer, the good ship that brought ye o'er,
Where lies she anchor'd? near, or off the shore?
Thus he. His meditated fraud I find,
(Vers'd in the turns of various humankind)
And cautious, thus. Against a dreadful rock,
Fast by your shore the gallant vessel broke.
Scarce with these few I scap'd; of all of my train,
Whom angry Neptune whelm'd beneath the main;
The scatter'd wreck the winds blew back again.
He answer'd with his deed. His bloody hand
Snatch'd two, unhappy! of my marital band;
And dash'd like dogs against the stony floor:
The pavement swims with brains and mingled gore.
Torn limb from limb, he spreads his horrid feast,
And fierce devours it like a mountain beast:
He sucks the marrow, and the blood he drains,
Nor entrails, flesh, nor solid bone remains.
We see the death from which we cannot move,
And humbled groan beneath the hand of Jove.
His ample maw with human carnage fill'd,
A milky deluge next the giant swill'd;
Then stretch'd in length o'er half the cavern'd rock,
Lay senseless, and supine, amidst the flock.
To seize the time, and with a sudden wound
To fix the slumb'ring monster to the ground,
My soul impells me; and in act I stand
To draw the sword; but Wisdom held my hand.
A deed so rash had finish'd all our fate,
No mortal forces from the lofty gate
Could roll the rock. In hopeless grief we lay,
And sigh, expecting the return of day.
Now did the rosy-finger'd morn arise,
And shed her sacred light along the skies.
He wakes, he lights the fire, he milks the dams,
And to the mother's teat submits the lambs.
The task thus finish'd of his morning hours,
Two more he snatches, murders, and devours.
Then pleas'd and whistling, drives his flock before;
Removes the rocky mountain from the door,
And shuts again; with equal ease dispos'd,
As a light quiver's lid is op'd and clos'd.
His giant voice the ecchoing region fills:
His flocks, obedient, spread o'er all the hills.
Thus left behind, ev'n in the last despair
I thought, devis'd, and Pallas heard my prayer.
Revenge, and doubt, and caution, work'd my breast;
But this of many counsels seem'd the best:
The monster's club within the cave I spy'd,
A tree of stateliest growth, and yet undry'd,
Green from the wood; of height and bulk so vast,
The largest ship might claim it for a mast.
This shorten'd of its top, I gave my train
A fathom's length, to shape it and to plain;
The narrow'r end I sharpen'd to a spire;
Whose point we harden'd with the force of fire,
And hid it in the dust that strow'd the cave.
Then to my few companions, bold and brave,
Propos'd, who first the vent'rous deed should try?
In the broad orbit of his monstrous eye
To plunge the brand, and twirl the pointed wood;
When slumber next should tame the man of blood.
Just as I wish'd, the lots were cast on four;
My self the fifth. We stand, and wait the hour.
He comes with evening: all his fleecy flock
Before him march, and pour into the rock:
Not one, or male or female, stay'd behind;
(So fortune chanc'd, or so some God design'd)
Then heaving high the stone's unwieldy weight,
He roll'd it on the cave, and clos'd the gate.
First down he sits, to milk the woolly dams,
And then permits their udder to the lambs.
Next seiz'd two wretches more, and headlong cast,
Brain'd on the rock; his second dire repast.
I then approach'd him reeking with their gore,
And held the brimming goblet foaming o'er:
Cyclop! since human flesh has been thy feast,
Now drain this goblet, potent to digest:
Know hence what treasures in our ship we lost,
And what rich liquors other climates boast.
We to thy shore the precious freight shall bear,
If home thou send us, and vouchsafe to spare.
But oh! thus furious, thirsting thus for gore,
The sons of men shall ne'er approach thy shore,
And never shalt thou taste this Nectar more.
He heard, he took, and pouring down his throat
Delighted swill'd the large, luxurious draught.
More! give me more, he cry'd: the boon be thine,
Whoe'er thou art that bear'st celestial wine!
Declare thy name; not mortal is this juice,
Such as th' unblest Cyclopean climes produce,
(Tho' sure our vine the largest cluster yields,
And Jove's scorn'd thunder serves to drench our fields)
But this descended from the b[l]est abodes,
A rill of Nectar, streaming from the Gods.
He said, and greedy grasp'd the heady bowl,
Thrice drain'd, and pour'd the deluge on his soul.
His sense lay cover'd with the dozy fume;
While thus my fraudful speech I reassume.
Thy promis'd boon, O Cyclop! now I claim,
And plead my title: Noman is my name.
By that distinguish'd from my tender years,
'Tis what my parents call me, and my peers.
The Giant then. Our promis'd grace receive,
The hospitable boon we mean to give:
When all thy wretched crew have felt my pow'r,
Noman shall be the last I will devour.
He said; then nodding with the fumes of wine
Dropt his huge head, and snoring lay supine.
His neck obliquely o'er his shoulder hung,
Prest with the weight of sleep that tames the strong:
There belcht the mingled streams of wine and blood,
And human flesh, his indigested food.
Sudden I stir the embers, and inspire
With animating breath the seeds of fire;
Each drooping spirit with bold words repair,
And urge my train the dreadful deed to dare.
The stake now glow'd beneath the burning bed
(Green as it was) and sparkled fiery red.
Then forth the vengeful instrument I bring;
With beating hearts my fellows form a ring.
Urg'd by some present God, they swift let fall
The pointed torment on his visual ball.
Me self above them from a rising ground
Guide the sharp stake, and twirl it round and round.
As when a shipwright stands his workmen o'er,
Who plye the wimble, some huge beam to bore;
Urg'd on all hands it nimbly spins about,
The grain deep-piercing till it scoops it out:
In his broad eye so whirls the fiery wood;
From the pierc'd pupil spouts the boiling blood;
Sing'd are his brows; the scorching lids grow black;
The gelly bubbles, and the fibres crack.
And as when Arm'rers temper in the ford
The keen-edg'd pole-axe, or the shining sword,
The red-hot metal hisses in the lake,
Thus in his eyeball hiss'd the plunging stake.
He sends a dreadful groan: the rocks around
Thro' all their inmost-winding caves resound.
Scar'd we receded. Forth, with frantic hand
He tore, and dash'd on earth the goary brand:
Then calls the Cyclops, all that round him dwell,
With voice like thunder, and a direful yell.
From all their dens the one-ey'd race repair,
From rifted rocks, and mountains bleak in air.
All haste assembled, at his well-known roar,
Enquire the cause, and croud the cavern door.
What hurts thee, Polypheme? what strange affright
Thus breaks our slumbers, and disturbs the night?
Does any mortal in th' unguarded hour
Of sleep, oppress thee, or by fraud or pow'r?
Or thieves insidious thy fair flock surprize?
Thus they: the Cyclop from his den replies.
Friends, Noman kills me; Noman in the hour
Of sleep, oppresses me with fraudful pow'r.
"If no man hurt thee, but the hand divine
Inflict disease, it fits thee to resign:
To Jove or to thy father Neptune pray.'
The brethren cry'd, and instant strode away.
Joy touch'd my secret soul, and conscious heart,
Pleas'd with th' effect of conduct and of art.
Mean-time the Cyclop raging with his wound,
Spreads his wide arms, and searches round and round:
At last, the stone removing from the gate,
With hands extended in the midst he sate;
And search'd each passing sheep, and felt it o'er,
Secure to seize us ere we reach'd the door.
(Such as his shallow wit, he deem'd was mine)
But secret I revolv'd the deep design:
'Twas for our lives my lab'ring bosom wrought;
Each scheme I turn'd, and sharpen'd ev'ry thought:
This way and that, I cast to save my friends,
'Till one resolve my varying counsel ends.
Strong were the Rams, with native purple fair,
Well fed, and largest of the fleecy care.
These, three and three, with osier bands we ty'd,
(The twining bands the Cyclop's bed supply'd)
The midmost bore a man; the outward two
Secur'd each side: So bound we all the crew.
One ram remain'd, the leader of the flock;
In his deep fleece my grasping hands I lock,
And fast beneath in woolly curls inwove
There cling implicite, and confide in Jove.
When rosy morning glimmer'd o'er the dales,
He drove to pasture all the lusty males:
The ewes still folded, with distended thighs
Unmilk'd, lay bleating in distressful cries.
But heedless of those cares, with anguish stung,
He felt their fleeces as they pass'd along,
(Fool that he was) and let them safely go,
All unsuspecting of their freight below.
The master Ram at last approach'd the gate,
Charg'd with his wool, and with Ulysses' fate.
Him while he past the monster blind bespoke:
What makes my ram the lag of all the flock?
First thou wert wont to crop the flow'ry mead,
First to the field and river's bank to lead,
And first with stately step at evening hour
Thy fleecy fellows usher to their bow'r.
Now far the last, with pensive pace and slow
Thou mov'st, as conscious of thy master's woe!
Seest thou these lids that now unfold in vain?
(The deed of Noman and his wicked train)
Oh! didst thou feel for thy afflicted Lord,
And wou'd but Fate the pow'r of speech afford!
Soon might'st thou tell me, where in secret here
The dastard lurks, all trembling with his fear:
Swung round and round, and dash'd from rock to rock,
His batter'd brains shou'd on the pavement smoke.
No ease, no pleasure my sad heart receives,
While such a monster as vile Noman lives.
The Giant spoke, and thro' the hollow rock
Dismiss'd the Ram, the father of the flock.
No sooner freed, and thro' th' enclosure past,
First I release my self, my fellows last:
Fat sheep and goats in throngs we drive before,
And reach or vessel on the winding shore.