Page:The Iliad and Odyssey of Homer (IA iliadodysseyofho02home).pdf/217

Book IX. Tough oaken timber, placed on either side Below, his fellow-artists strain the thong Alternate, and the restless iron spins, So, grasping hard the stake pointed with fire, We twirl'd it in his eye; the bubbling blood Boil'd round about the brand; his pupil sent A scalding vapour forth that sing'd his brow, And all his eye-roots crackled in the flame. As when the smith an hatchet or large axe Temp'ring with skill, plunges the hissing blade Deep in cold water, (whence the strength of steel) So hiss'd his eye around the olive-wood. The howling monster with his outcry fill'd The hollow rock, and I, with all my aids, Fled terrified. He, plucking forth the spike From his burnt socket, mad with anguish, cast The implement all bloody far away. Then, bellowing, he sounded forth the name Of ev'ry Cyclops dwelling in the caves Around him, on the wind-swept mountain-tops; They, at his cry flocking from ev'ry part, Circled his den, and of his ail enquired. What grievous hurt hath caused thee, Polypheme! Thus yelling to alarm the peaceful ear Of night, and break our slumbers? Fear'st thou lest Some mortal man drive off thy flocks? or fear'st Thyself to die by cunning or by force?