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,