“Strong were the rams, with native purple fair,
Well fed, and largest of the fleecy care,
These, three and three, with osier bands we tied
(The twining bands the Cyclop’s bed supplied);
The midmost bore a man, the outward two
Secured each side:  so bound we all the crew,
One ram remain’d, the leader of the flock: 
In his deep fleece my grasping hands I lock,
And fast beneath, in wooly curls inwove,
There cling implicit, and confide in Jove. 
When rosy morning glimmer’d o’er the dales,
He drove to pasture all the lusty males: 
The ewes still folded, with distended thighs
Unmilk’d lay bleating in distressful cries. 
But heedless of those cares, with anguish stung,
He felt their fleeces as they pass’d along
(Fool that he was.) and let them safely go,
All unsuspecting of their freight below.

“The master ram at last approach’d the gate,
Charged with his wool, and with Ulysses’ fate. 
Him while he pass’d, the monster blind bespoke: 
’What makes my ram the lag of all the flock? 
First thou wert wont to crop the flowery mead,
First to the field and river’s bank to lead,
And first with stately step at evening hour
Thy fleecy fellows usher to their bower. 
Now far the last, with pensive pace and slow
Thou movest, as conscious of thy master’s woe! 
Seest thou these lids that now unfold in vain? 
(The deed of Noman and his wicked train!)
Oh! did’st thou feel for thy afflicted lord,
And would but Fate the power of speech afford. 
Soon might’st thou tell me, where in secret here
The dastard lurks, all trembling with his fear: 
Swung round and round, and dash’d from rock to rock,
His battered brains should on the pavement smoke
No ease, no pleasure my sad heart receives,
While such a monster as vile Noman lives.’

“The giant spoke, and through the hollow rock
Dismiss’d the ram, the father of the flock. 
No sooner freed, and through the inclosure pass’d,
First I release myself, my fellows last: 
Fat sheep and goats in throngs we drive before,
And reach our vessel on the winding shore. 
With joy the sailors view their friends return’d,
And hail us living whom as dead they mourn’d
Big tears of transport stand in every eye: 
I check their fondness, and command to fly. 
Aboard in haste they heave the wealthy sheep,
And snatch their oars, and rush into the deep. 
“Now off at sea, and from the shallows clear,
As far as human voice could reach the ear,
With taunts the distant giant I accost: 
’Hear me, O Cyclop! hear, ungracious host! 
’Twas on no coward, no ignoble slave,
Thou meditatest thy meal in yonder cave;
But one, the vengeance fated from above
Doom’d to inflict; the instrument of Jove. 
Thy barbarous breach of hospitable bands,
The god, the god revenges by my hands.’