ATLAS. 



Now sees the top of Atlas as he flies, 

 Whose brawny back supports the starry skies ; 

 Atlas, whose head with piny forests crowned, 

 Is beaten by the wind, with foggy vapors bound. 

 Snow hides his shoulders ; from beneath his chin 

 The founts of rolling streams their race begin. 



VIEGIL. 



6* 65 



