“Thus far unseen I saw; when fatal chance His looks directing, with a sudden glance, Acis and I were to his sight betray’d, Where, naught suspecting, we securely play’d, From his wide mouth a bellowing cry he cast: ‘I see, I see; but this shall be your last.’ A roar so loud made jEtna to rebound; And all the cyclop labour’d in the sound. Affrighted with his monstrous voice, I fled, And in the neighbouring ocean plunged my head: Poor Acis turn’d his back, and, ‘Help,’ he cried, ‘Help, Galatea; help, my parent gods, And take me, dying, to your deep abodes.’ The cyclop follow’d, but he sent before A rib, which from the living rock he tore: Though but an angle reach’d him of the stone, The mighty fragment was enough alone To crush all Acis. ’Twas too late to save; But what the fntes allow’d to give, I gave; That Acis to his lineage should return, And roll among the river gods his urn. Straight issued from the stone a stream of blood, Which lost the purple, mingling with the flood: Then like a double torrent it appear’d,