Classic Poem

Thus Achemenides — With Thanks I name
Æneas , and his Piety proclaim.
I scap'd the Cyclops thro' the Hero's Aid,
Else in his Maw my mangled Limbs had laid
When first your Navy under Sail he found,
" He rav'd, till Ætna labour'd with the Sound
Raging, he stalk'd along the Mountain's Side,
And vented Clouds of Breath at ev'ry Stride.
" His Staff a Mountain Ash; and in the Clouds
" Ost, as he walks, his grisly Front he shrowds.
Eyeless he grop'd about with vengeful Haste,
And justled Promontories, as he pass'd
Then heav'd a Rock's high Summit to the Main,
And bellow'd, like some bursting Hurricane
Oh! cou'd I seize Ulysses in his Flight,
How unlamented were my Loss of Sight!
These Jaws should Piece-meal tear each panting Vein,
Grind ev'ry crackling Bone, and pound his Brain.
As thus he rav'd, my Joynts with Horror shook;
The Tide of Blood my chilling Heart forsook.
I saw him once disgorge huge Morsels, raw,
Of Wretches undigested in his Maw.
From the pale breathless Trunks whole Limbs he tore,
His Beard all clotted with o'erflowing Gore
My anxious Hours I pass'd in Caves; my Food
Was Forest Fruits, and Wildings of the Wood.
At length a Sail I wafted, and aboard
My Fortune found an hospitable Lord.
Now, in Return, your own Adventures tell,
And what, since first you put to Sea, befell.