Page:Ovid's Metamorphoses (Vol. 2) - tr Garth, Dryden, et. al. (1727).djvu/223

Book 13. Here, on the midst he sate; his Flocks, unled, Their Shepherd follow'd, and securely fed. A Pine so burly, and of Length so vast, That sailing Ships requir'd it for a Mast, He wielded for a Staff, his steps to guide: But laid it by, his Whistle while he try'd. A hundred Reeds, of a prodigious Growth, Scarce made a Pipe, proportion'd to his Mouth: Which when he gave it Wind, the Rocks around, And watry Plains, the dreadful Hiss resound. I heard the Ruffian-Shepherd rudely blow, Where, in the hollow Cave, I sat below; On Acis' Bosom I my Head reclin'd: And still preserv'd the Poem in my Mind. Oh lovely Galatea, whiter far Than falling Snows, and rising Lilies are; More flowry than the Meads, as Crystal bright, Erect as Alders, and of equal height; More wanton, than a Kid, more sleek thy Skin, Than Orient Shells, that on the Shores are seen. Than Apples fairer, when the Boughs they lade, Pleasing, as Winter Suns, or Summer Shade: More grateful to the Sight, than goodly Plains; And softer to the Touch, than Down of Swans; Or Curds new turn'd; and sweeter to the Taste Than swelling Grapes, that to the Vintage haste: More clear than Ice, or running Streams, that stray Through Garden Plots, but ah! more swift than they. Yet, Galatea, harder to be broke Than Bullocks, unreclaim'd, to bear the Yoke, And far more stubborn, than the knotted Oak: Like sliding Streams, impossible to hold; Like them, fallacious, like their Fountains, cold. More warping, than the Willow to decline My warm Embrace, more brittle, than the Vine; Immoveable, and fixt in thy Disdain; Rough, as these Rocks, and of a harder Grain. More