Till, using all the force of winds and oars, We sped away; he heard us in our course, And with his outstretched arms around him groped, But finding nought within his reach, he raised Such hideous shouts that all the ocean shook. Even Italy, though many a league remote, _130 In distant echoes answered; Ætna roared, Through all its inmost winding caverns roared. Roused with the sound, the mighty family Of one-eyed brothers hasten to the shore, And gather round the bellowing Polypheme, A dire assembly: we with eager haste Work every one, and from afar behold A host of giants covering all the shore. So stands a forest tall of mountain oaks Advanced to mighty growth: the traveller _140 Hears from the humble valley where he rides The hollow murmurs of the winds that blow Amidst the boughs, and at the distance sees The shady tops of trees unnumbered rise, A stately prospect, waving in the clouds. THE CAMPAIGN, A POEM. TO HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH. Rhení pæator et Istri. Omnis in hoc uno variis discordia cessit Ordinibus; læctatur eques, plauditque senator, Votaque patricio certant plebeia favori. CLAUD. DE LAUD. STILIC. Esse aliquam in terris gentem quæ suâ impensâ, suo labore ac periculo bella gerat pro libertate aliorum. Nec hoc finitimis, aut propinquæ vicinitatis hominibus, aut terris continenti junctis præstet. Maria trajiciat: ne quod toto orbe terrarum injustum imperium sit, et ubique jus, fas, lex, potentissima sint. LIV. HIST. lib. 36.