Chrysaor, who married Callirhoe, one of the Oceanides, sprung with his
golden sword from those drops of blood, as well as the winged Pegasus,
which flew directly through the air, and stopping on the Mount bearing the
same name, became a favorite with the Muses.
In the meantime young Perseus pursued his flight through the air, across
the deserts of Lybia. The approach of night compelled him to seek a brief
shelter with Atlas, monarch of Mauritania. {191}
"The victor Perseus, with the Gorgon head,
O'er Lybian sands his airy journey sped.
The gory drops distilled as swift he flew,
And from each drop envenomed serpents grew.
The mischiefs brooded on the barren plains,
And still the unhappy fruitfulness remains.
Thence Perseus, like a cloud, by storms was driv'n,
Thro' all the expanse beneath the cope of heaven.
The jarring winds unable to control,
He saw the southern and the northern pole:
And eastward thrice, and westward thrice was whirled,
And from the skies surveyed the nether world.
But when grey ev'ning showed the verge of night,
He feared in darkness to pursue his flight.
He poised his pinions, and forgot to soar,
And sinking, closed them on th' Hesperian shore:
Then begged to rest, till Lucifer begun
To wake the morn, the morn to wake the sun.
Here Atlas reigned of more than human size,
And in his kingdom the world's limit lies.
Here Titan bids his wearied coursers sleep,
And cools the burning axle in the deep.
The mighty monarch, uncontrolled, alone,
His sceptre sways; no neighb'ring states are known.
A thousand flocks on shady mountains fed,
A thousand herds o'er grassy plains were spread:
Her wondrous trees their shining stores unfold,
Their shining stores too wondrous to be told;
Their leaves, their branches, and their apples, gold.
Then Perseus the gigantic prince addressed,
Humbly implored a hospitable rest:
If bold exploits thy admiration fire,
(He said), I fancy, mine thou wilt admire:
Or if the glory of a race can move,
Not mean my glory, for I spring from Jove."