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William Cowper- Collected Poetical Works

Page 160

by William Cowper


  Malea, waves and currents and North-winds

  Constrain’d me devious to Cythera’s isle.

  Nine days by cruel storms thence was I borne

  Athwart the fishy Deep, but on the tenth

  Reach’d the Lotophagi, a race sustain’d

  On sweetest fruit alone. There quitting ship,

  We landed and drew water, and the crews

  Beside the vessels took their ev’ning cheer.

  When, hasty, we had thus our strength renew’d, 100

  I order’d forth my people to inquire

  (Two I selected from the rest, with whom

  I join’d an herald, third) what race of men

  Might there inhabit. They, departing, mix’d

  With the Lotophagi; nor hostile aught

  Or savage the Lotophagi devised

  Against our friends, but offer’d to their taste

  The lotus; of which fruit what man soe’er

  Once tasted, no desire felt he to come

  With tidings back, or seek his country more, 110

  But rather wish’d to feed on lotus still

  With the Lotophagi, and to renounce

  All thoughts of home. Them, therefore, I constrain’d

  Weeping on board, and dragging each beneath

  The benches, bound him there. Then, all in haste,

  I urged my people to ascend again

  Their hollow barks, lest others also, fed

  With fruit of lotus, should forget their home.

  They quick embark’d, and on the benches ranged

  In order, thresh’d with oars the foamy flood. 120

  Thence, o’er the Deep proceeding sad, we reach’d

  The land at length, where, giant-sized and free

  From all constraint of law, the Cyclops dwell.

  They, trusting to the Gods, plant not, or plough,

  But earth unsow’d, untill’d, brings forth for them

  All fruits, wheat, barley, and the vinous grape

  Large cluster’d, nourish’d by the show’rs of Jove.

  No councils they convene, no laws contrive,

  But in deep caverns dwell, found on the heads

  Of lofty mountains, judging each supreme 130

  His wife and children, heedless of the rest.

  In front of the Cyclopean haven lies

  A level island, not adjoining close

  Their land, nor yet remote, woody and rude.

  There, wild goats breed numberless, by no foot

  Of man molested; never huntsman there,

  Inured to winter’s cold and hunger, roams

  The dreary woods, or mountain-tops sublime;

  No fleecy flocks dwell there, nor plough is known,

  But the unseeded and unfurrow’d soil, 140

  Year after year a wilderness by man

  Untrodden, food for blatant goats supplies.

  For no ships crimson-prow’d the Cyclops own,

  Nor naval artizan is there, whose toil

  Might furnish them with oary barks, by which

  Subsists all distant commerce, and which bear

  Man o’er the Deep to cities far remote

  Who might improve the peopled isle, that seems

  Not steril in itself, but apt to yield,

  In their due season, fruits of ev’ry kind. 150

  For stretch’d beside the hoary ocean lie

  Green meadows moist, where vines would never fail;

  Light is the land, and they might yearly reap

  The tallest crops, so unctuous is the glebe.

  Safe is its haven also, where no need

  Of cable is or anchor, or to lash

  The hawser fast ashore, but pushing in

  His bark, the mariner might there abide

  Till rising gales should tempt him forth again.

  At bottom of the bay runs a clear stream 160

  Issuing from a cove hemm’d all around

  With poplars; down into that bay we steer’d

  Amid the darkness of the night, some God

  Conducting us; for all unseen it lay,

  Such gloom involved the fleet, nor shone the moon

  From heav’n to light us, veil’d by pitchy clouds.

  Hence, none the isle descried, nor any saw

  The lofty surge roll’d on the strand, or ere

  Our vessels struck the ground; but when they struck,

  Then, low’ring all our sails, we disembark’d, 170

  And on the sea-beach slept till dawn appear’d.

  Soon as Aurora, daughter of the dawn,

  Look’d rosy forth, we with admiring eyes

  The isle survey’d, roaming it wide around.

  Meantime, the nymphs, Jove’s daughters, roused the goats

  Bred on the mountains, to supply with food

  The partners of my toils; then, bringing forth

  Bows and long-pointed javelins from the ships,

  Divided all into three sep’rate bands

  We struck them, and the Gods gave us much prey. 180

  Twelve ships attended me, and ev’ry ship

  Nine goats received by lot; myself alone

  Selected ten. All day, till set of sun,

  We eating sat goat’s flesh, and drinking wine

  Delicious, without stint; for dearth was none

  Of ruddy wine on board, but much remain’d,

  With which my people had their jars supplied

  What time we sack’d Ciconian Ismarus.

  Thence looking forth toward the neighbour-land

  Where dwell the Cyclops, rising smoke we saw, 190

  And voices heard, their own, and of their flocks.

  Now sank the sun, and (night o’ershadowing all)

  We slept along the shore; but when again

  The rosy-finger’d daughter of the dawn

  Look’d forth, my crews convened, I thus began.

  Companions of my course! here rest ye all,

  Save my own crew, with whom I will explore

  This people, whether wild, they be, unjust,

  And to contention giv’n, or well-disposed

  To strangers, and a race who fear the Gods. 200

  So speaking, I embark’d, and bade embark

  My followers, throwing, quick, the hawsers loose.

  They, ent’ring at my word, the benches fill’d

  Well-ranged, and thresh’d with oars the foamy flood.

  Attaining soon that neighbour-land, we found

  At its extremity, fast by the sea,

  A cavern, lofty, and dark-brow’d above

  With laurels; in that cavern slumb’ring lay

  Much cattle, sheep and goats, and a broad court

  Enclosed it, fenced with stones from quarries hewn, 210

  With spiry firs, and oaks of ample bough.

  Here dwelt a giant vast, who far remote

  His flocks fed solitary, converse none

  Desiring, sullen, savage, and unjust.

  Monster, in truth, he was, hideous in form,

  Resembling less a man by Ceres’ gift

  Sustain’d, than some aspiring mountain-crag

  Tufted with wood, and standing all alone.

  Enjoining, then, my people to abide

  Fast by the ship which they should closely guard, 220

  I went, but not without a goat-skin fill’d

  With sable wine which I had erst received

  From Maron, offspring of Evanthes, priest

  Of Phœbus guardian god of Ismarus,

  Because, through rev’rence of him, we had saved

  Himself, his wife and children; for he dwelt

  Amid the grove umbrageous of his God.

  He gave me, therefore, noble gifts; from him

  Sev’n talents I received of beaten gold,

  A beaker, argent all, and after these 230

  No fewer than twelve jars with wine replete,

  Rich, unadult’rate, drink for Gods; nor knew

 
; One servant, male or female, of that wine

  In all his house; none knew it, save himself,

  His wife, and the intendant of his stores.

  Oft as they drank that luscious juice, he slaked

  A single cup with twenty from the stream,

  And, even then, the beaker breath’d abroad

  A scent celestial, which whoever smelt,

  Thenceforth no pleasure found it to abstain. 240

  Charged with an ample goat-skin of this wine

  I went, and with a wallet well supplied,

  But felt a sudden presage in my soul

  That, haply, with terrific force endued,

  Some savage would appear, strange to the laws

  And privileges of the human race.

  Few steps convey’d us to his den, but him

  We found not; he his flocks pastur’d abroad.

  His cavern ent’ring, we with wonder gazed

  Around on all; his strainers hung with cheese 250

  Distended wide; with lambs and kids his penns

  Close-throng’d we saw, and folded separate

  The various charge; the eldest all apart,

  Apart the middle-aged, and the new-yean’d

  Also apart. His pails and bowls with whey

  Swam all, neat vessels into which he milk’d.

  Me then my friends first importuned to take

  A portion of his cheeses, then to drive

  Forth from the sheep-cotes to the rapid bark

  His kids and lambs, and plow the brine again. 260

  But me they moved not, happier had they moved!

  I wish’d to see him, and to gain, perchance,

  Some pledge of hospitality at his hands,

  Whose form was such, as should not much bespeak

  When he appear’d, our confidence or love.

  Then, kindling fire, we offer’d to the Gods,

  And of his cheeses eating, patient sat

  Till home he trudged from pasture. Charged he came

  With dry wood bundled, an enormous load

  Fuel by which to sup. Loud crash’d the thorns 270

  Which down he cast before the cavern’s mouth,

  To whose interior nooks we trembling flew.

  At once he drove into his spacious cave

  His batten’d flock, all those which gave him milk,

  But all the males, both rams and goats, he left

  Abroad, excluded from the cavern-yard.

  Upheaving, next, a rocky barrier huge

  To his cave’s mouth, he thrust it home. That weight

  Not all the oxen from its place had moved

  Of twenty and two wains; with such a rock 280

  Immense his den he closed. Then down he sat,

  And as he milk’d his ewes and bleating goats

  All in their turns, her yeanling gave to each;

  Coagulating, then, with brisk dispatch,

  The half of his new milk, he thrust the curd

  Into his wicker sieves, but stored the rest

  In pans and bowls — his customary drink.

  His labours thus perform’d, he kindled, last,

  His fuel, and discerning us, enquired,

  Who are ye, strangers? from what distant shore 290

  Roam ye the waters? traffic ye? or bound

  To no one port, wander, as pirates use,

  At large the Deep, exposing life themselves,

  And enemies of all mankind beside?

  He ceased; we, dash’d with terrour, heard the growl

  Of his big voice, and view’d his form uncouth,

  To whom, though sore appall’d, I thus replied.

  Of Greece are we, and, bound from Ilium home,

  Have wander’d wide the expanse of ocean, sport

  For ev’ry wind, and driven from our course, 300

  Have here arrived; so stood the will of Jove.

  We boast ourselves of Agamemnon’s train,

  The son of Atreus, at this hour the Chief

  Beyond all others under heav’n renown’d,

  So great a city he hath sack’d and slain

  Such num’rous foes; but since we reach, at last,

  Thy knees, we beg such hospitable fare,

  Or other gift, as guests are wont to obtain.

  Illustrious lord! respect the Gods, and us

  Thy suitors; suppliants are the care of Jove 310

  The hospitable; he their wrongs resents

  And where the stranger sojourns, there is he.

  I ceas’d, when answer thus he, fierce, return’d.

  Friend! either thou art fool, or hast arrived

  Indeed from far, who bidd’st me fear the Gods

  Lest they be wroth. The Cyclops little heeds

  Jove Ægis-arm’d, or all the Pow’rs of heav’n.

  Our race is mightier far; nor shall myself,

  Through fear of Jove’s hostility, abstain

  From thee or thine, unless my choice be such. 320

  But tell me now. Where touch’d thy gallant bark

  Our country, on thy first arrival here?

  Remote or nigh? for I would learn the truth.

  So spake he, tempting me; but, artful, thus

  I answer’d, penetrating his intent.

  My vessel, Neptune, Shaker of the shores,

  At yonder utmost promontory dash’d

  In pieces, hurling her against the rocks

  With winds that blew right thither from the sea,

  And I, with these alone, escaped alive. 330

  So I, to whom, relentless, answer none

  He deign’d, but, with his arms extended, sprang

  Toward my people, of whom seizing two

  At once, like whelps against his cavern-floor

  He dash’d them, and their brains spread on the ground.

  These, piece-meal hewn, for supper he prepared,

  And, like a mountain-lion, neither flesh

  Nor entrails left, nor yet their marrowy bones.

  We, viewing that tremendous sight, upraised

  Our hands to Jove, all hope and courage lost. 340

  When thus the Cyclops had with human flesh

  Fill’d his capacious belly, and had quaff’d

  Much undiluted milk, among his flocks

  Out-stretch’d immense, he press’d his cavern-floor.

  Me, then, my courage prompted to approach

  The monster with my sword drawn from the sheath,

  And to transfix him where the vitals wrap

  The liver; but maturer thoughts forbad.

  For so, we also had incurred a death

  Tremendous, wanting pow’r to thrust aside 350

  The rocky mass that closed his cavern-mouth

  By force of hand alone. Thus many a sigh

  Heaving, we watch’d the dawn. But when, at length,

  Aurora, day-spring’s daughter rosy-palm’d

  Look’d forth, then, kindling fire, his flocks he milk’d

  In order, and her yeanling kid or lamb

  Thrust under each. When thus he had perform’d

  His wonted task, two seizing, as before,

  He slew them for his next obscene regale.

  His dinner ended, from the cave he drove 360

  His fatted flocks abroad, moving with ease

  That pond’rous barrier, and replacing it

  As he had only closed a quiver’s lid.

  Then, hissing them along, he drove his flocks

  Toward the mountain, and me left, the while,

  Deep ruminating how I best might take

  Vengeance, and by the aid of Pallas win

  Deathless renown. This counsel pleas’d me most.

  Beside the sheep-cote lay a massy club

  Hewn by the Cyclops from an olive stock, 370

  Green, but which dried, should serve him for a staff.

  To us consid’ring it, that staff appear’d

  Tall as the mast of a huge trading bark,

&nb
sp; Impell’d by twenty rowers o’er the Deep.

  Such seem’d its length to us, and such its bulk.

  Part amputating, (an whole fathom’s length)

  I gave my men that portion, with command

  To shave it smooth. They smooth’d it, and myself,

  Shaping its blunt extremity to a point,

  Season’d it in the fire; then cov’ring close 380

  The weapon, hid it under litter’d straw,

  For much lay scatter’d on the cavern-floor.

  And now I bade my people cast the lot

  Who of us all should take the pointed brand,

  And grind it in his eye when next he slept.

  The lots were cast, and four were chosen, those

  Whom most I wish’d, and I was chosen fifth.

  At even-tide he came, his fleecy flocks

  Pasturing homeward, and compell’d them all

  Into his cavern, leaving none abroad, 390

  Either through some surmise, or so inclined

  By influence, haply, of the Gods themselves.

  The huge rock pull’d into its place again

  At the cave’s mouth, he, sitting, milk’d his sheep

  And goats in order, and her kid or lamb

  Thrust under each; thus, all his work dispatch’d,

  Two more he seiz’d, and to his supper fell.

  I then, approaching to him, thus address’d

  The Cyclops, holding in my hands a cup

  Of ivy-wood, well-charg’d with ruddy wine. 400

  Lo, Cyclops! this is wine. Take this and drink

  After thy meal of man’s flesh. Taste and learn

  What precious liquor our lost vessel bore.

  I brought it hither, purposing to make

  Libation to thee, if to pity inclined

  Thou would’st dismiss us home. But, ah, thy rage

  Is insupportable! thou cruel one!

  Who, thinkest thou, of all mankind, henceforth

  Will visit thee, guilty of such excess?

  I ceas’d. He took and drank, and hugely pleas’d 410

  With that delicious bev’rage, thus enquir’d.

  Give me again, and spare not. Tell me, too,

  Thy name, incontinent, that I may make

  Requital, gratifying also thee

  With somewhat to thy taste. We Cyclops own

  A bounteous soil, which yields us also wine

  From clusters large, nourish’d by show’rs from Jove;

  But this — this is from above — a stream

  Of nectar and ambrosia, all divine!

  He ended, and received a second draught, 420

  Like measure. Thrice I bore it to his hand,

  And, foolish, thrice he drank. But when the fumes

  Began to play around the Cyclops’ brain,

  With show of amity I thus replied.

  Cyclops! thou hast my noble name enquired,

 

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