Ovid Book II 854-865 (Caitlyn)

His rounded muscles stood out, a dewlap hung down,
his horns were twisted, but so perfect as though
made by hand, cleaner and more gleaming that jewels.
There was fear neither in his brow nor his great eyes:
his face held peace. Agenor's daughter wondered at him,
who was so beautiful, who did not threaten;
but though he seemed gentle she first feared to touch him,
then held out flowers to his bright white lips.
This lover rejoiced and, then as a hope for coming pleasure,
kissed the hands she gave; hardly could he hold off longer;
and now he capers and exults on the green grass,
now lays out his snowy form on the yellow strand;