As we rowed on, and nearer to the mainland,/ at one end of the bay, we saw a cavern/ yawning above the water, screened with laurel,/ and many rams and goats about the placed/ inside a sheepfold made from slabs of stone/ earthfast between tall trunks of pine and rugged/ towering oak trees.
Climax
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
We climbed, then, briskly to the cave. But Cyclops/ had gone afield, to pasture his fat sheep,/ so we looked round at everything inside:/ a drying rack that sagged with cheeses, pens/ crowded with lambs and kids, each in its class:/ firstlings apart from middlings, and the dewdrops,/ or newborn lambkins, penned apart from both./ And vessels full of whey were brimming there/ bowls of earthenware and pails for milking.
Falling Action
You're back!
Neither reply nor pity came from him,/ but in one stride he clutched at my companions/ and caught two in his hands like squirming puppies/ to beat their brains out, spattering the floor./ Then he dismembered them and made his meal,/ gaping and crunching like a mountain lion/ everything: innards, flesh, and marrow bones.
Resolution
Straight/ forward they sprinted, lifted it, and rammed it/ deep in his crater eye, and I leaned on it/ turning it as a shipwright turns a drill/ in planking, having men below to swing/ the two-handled strap that spins it in the groove.
Close by,/ I dropped and rolled clear of the ram’s belly,/ going this way and that to untie the men./ With many glances back, we rounded up/ his fat, stiff-legged sheep to take aboard,/ and drove them down to where the good ship lay.
At this he stretched his hands out in his darkness/ toward the sky of stars, and prayed Poseidon:
Oh Poseidon, god of the sea, grant that Odysseus never see his home of Ithaca and let him lose all companions along the way.