He spake:  the dogs ran scurrying to their lairs. 
    And now the sun wheeled round his westering car
    And led still evening on:  from every field
    Came thronging the fat flocks to bield and byre. 
    Then in their thousands, drove on drove, the kine
    Came into view; as rainclouds, onward driven
    By stress of gales, the west or mighty north,
    Come up o’er all the heaven; and none may count
    And naught may stay them as they sweep through air;
    Such multitudes the storm’s strength drives ahead,
    Such multitudes climb surging in the rear—­
    So in swift sequence drove succeeded drove,
    And all the champaign, all the highways swarmed
    With tramping oxen; all the sumptuous leas
    Rang with their lowing.  Soon enough the stalls
    Were populous with the laggard-footed kine,
    Soon did the sheep lie folded in their folds. 
    Then of that legion none stood idle, none
    Gaped listless at the herd, with naught to do: 
    But one drew near and milked them, binding clogs
    Of wood with leathern thongs around their feet: 
    One brought, all hungering for the milk they loved,
    The longing young ones to the longing dams. 
    One held the pail, one pressed the dainty cheese,
    Or drove the bulls home, sundered from the kine. 
    Pacing from stall to stall, Augeas saw
    What revenue his herdsman brought him in. 
    With him his son surveyed the royal wealth,
    And, strong of limb and purpose, Heracles. 
    Then, though the heart within him was as steel,
    Framed to withstand all shocks, Amphitryon’s son
    Gazed in amazement on those thronging kine;
    For none had deemed or dreamed that one, or ten,
    Whose wealth was more than regal, owned those tribes: 
    Such huge largess the Sun had given his child,
    First of mankind for multitude of flocks. 
    The Sun himself gave increase day by day
    To his child’s herds:  whatever diseases spoil
    The farmer, came not there; his kine increased
    In multitude and value year by year: 
    None cast her young, or bare unfruitful males. 
    Three hundred bulls, white-pasterned, crumple-horned,
    Ranged amid these, and eke two hundred roans,
    Sires of a race to be:  and twelve besides
    Herded amongst them, sacred to the Sun. 
    Their skin was white as swansdown, and they moved
    Like kings amid the beasts of laggard foot. 
    Scorning the herd in uttermost disdain
    They cropped the green grass in untrodden fields: 
    And when from the dense jungle to the plain
    Leapt a wild beast, in quest of vagrant cows;
    Scenting him first, the twelve went forth to war. 
    Stern was their bellowing, in their eye sat death,
    Foremost of all for mettle and for might
    And pride of heart loomed Phaeton:  him the swains