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Pocket Find link - edwardbetts. About ANU. Tony Palma. Starting at Points. Others, apart, the spacious hall prepare, And form the costly feast with busy care.
To distant Sparta, and the spacious waste Of Sandy Pyle, the royal youth shall haste. The tables in fair order spread, They heap the glittering canisters with bread: Viands of various kinds allure the taste, Of choicest sort and savour, rich repast!
Delicious wines the attending herald brought; The gold gave lustre to the purple draught. Luxurious then they feast. Glowing celestial sweet, with godlike grace Amid the circle shines: but hope and fear Painful vicissitude!
Far from your capital my ship resides At Reitorus, and secure at anchor rides; Where waving groves on airy Neign grow, Supremely tall and shade the deeps below.
Light is the dance, and doubly sweet the lays, When for the dear delight another pays. But ah, I dream! And hope, too long with vain delusion fed, Deaf to the rumour of fallacious fame, Gives to the roll of death his glorious name!
With venial freedom let me now demand Thy name, thy lineage, and paternal land; Sincere from whence began thy course, recite, And to what ship I owe the friendly freight?
All who deserved his choice he made his own, And, curious much to know, he far was known. Let not your soul be sunk in sad despair; He lives, he breathes this heavenly vital air, Among a savage race, whose shelfy bounds With ceaseless roar the foaming deep surrounds.
Yet hear this certain speech, nor deem it vain; Though adamantine bonds the chief restrain, The dire restraint his wisdom will defeat, And soon restore him to his regal seat.
But generous youth! For sure Ulysses in your look appears, The same his features, if the same his years.
Or from their deed I rightlier may divine, Unseemly flown with insolence and wine? Unwelcome revellers, whose lawless joy Pains the sage ear, and hurts the sober eye.
Thus manifest of right, I build my claim 34 Pope Soon may your sire discharge the vengeance due, And all your wrongs the proud oppressors rue!
Then grateful Greece with streaming eyes would raise, Historic marbles to record his praise; His praise, eternal on the faithful stone, Had with transmissive honour graced his son.
And I his heir in misery alone. She seems attentive to their pleaded vows, Her heart detesting what her ear allows.
They, vain expectants of the bridal hour, My stores in riotous expense devour. In feast and dance the mirthful months employ, And meditate my doom to crown their joy.
Then let revenge your daring mind employ, By fraud or force the suitor train destroy, And starting into manhood, scorn the boy.
Hast thou not heard how young Orestes, fired With great revenge, immortal praise acquired? But my associates now my stay deplore, Impatient on the hoarse-resounding shore.
Thou, heedful of advice, secure proceed; My praise the precept is, be thine the deed. The sorrows of your inmost soul relate; And form sure plans to save the sinking state.
Direct your toil Through the wide ocean first to sandy Pyle; Of Nestor, hoary sage, his doom demand: Thence speed your voyage to the Spartan strand; For young Atrides to the Achaian coast Arrived the last of all the victor host.
If yet Ulysses views the light, forbear, Till the fleet hours restore the circling year. So fathers speak persuasive speech and mild Their sage experience to the favourite child.
But, since to part, for sweet refection due, The genial viands let my train renew; And the rich pledge of plighted faith receive, Worthy the air of Ithaca to give.
But, oh! His tender theme the charming lyrist chose. The shrilling airs the vaulted roof rebounds, Reflecting to the queen the silver sounds.
What Greeks new wandering in the Stygian gloom, Wish your Ulysses shared an equal doom! Then swelling sorrows burst their former bounds, With echoing grief afresh the dome resounds; Till Pallas, piteous of her plaintive cries, In slumber closed her silver-streaming eyes.
May Jove delay thy reign, and cumber late So bright a genius with the toils of state! Pacific now prolong the jovial feast; But when the dawn reveals the rosy east, I, to the peers assembled, shall propose The firm resolve, I here in few disclose; No longer live the cankers of my court; All to your several states with speed resort; Waste in wild riot what your land allows, There ply the early feast, and late carouse.
Fast by the throne obsequious fame resides, And wealth incessant rolls her golden tides. Sole with Telemachus her service ends, A child she nursed him, and a man attends.
Your patrimonial stores in peace possess; Undoubted, all your filial claim confess: Your private right should impious power invade, The peers of Ithaca would arm in aid.
But say, that stranger guest who late withdrew, What and from whence? That stranger-guest the Taphian realm obeys, A realm defended with encircling seas.
Then by his heralds, restless of delay, To council calls the peers: the peers obey. Soon as in solemn form the assembly sate, From his high dome himself descends in state.
The suitors endeavour to justify their stay, at least till he shall send the queen to the court of Icarius her father; which he refuses.
There appears a prodigy of two eagles in the sky, whick an augur expounds to the ruin of the suitors. Pallas, in the shape of Mentor an ancient friend of Ulysses , helps him to a ship, assists him in preparing necessaries for the voyage, and embarks with him that night; which concludes the second day from the opening of the poem.
The scene continues in the palace of Ulysses, in Ithaca. His eldest hope in arms to Ilion came, By great Ulysses taught the path to fame; 40 Pope No story I unfold of public woes, Nor bear advices of impending foes: Peace the blest land, and joys incessant crown: Of all this happy realm, I grieve alone.
For my lost sire continual sorrows spring, The great, the good; your father and your king. Yet more; our house from its foundation bows, Our foes are powerful, and your sons the foes; Hither, unwelcome to the queen, they come; Why seek they not the rich Icarian dome?
If she must wed, from other hands require The dowry: is Telemachus her sire? Yet through my court the noise of revel rings, And waste the wise frugality of kings.
Scarce all my herds their luxury suffice; Scarce all my wine their midnight hours supplies. Safe in my youth, in riot still they grow, Nor in the helpless orphan dread a foe.
But come it will, the time when manhood grants More powerful advocates than vain complaints. Approach that hour! Rise then, ye peers!
Say then, ye peers! Why here once more in solemn council sit? Ye young, ye old, the weighty cause disclose: Arrives some message of invading foes?
Or say, does high necessity of state Inspire some patriot, and demand debate? The present synod speaks its author wise; Assist him, Jove, thou regent of the skies!
If ruin to your royal race ye doom, Be you the spoilers, and our wealth consume. The work she plied; but, studious of delay, By night reversed the labours of the day.
We saw, as unperceived we took our stand, The backward labours of her faithless hand. Elusive of the bridal day, she gives Fond hopes to all, and all with hopes deceives.
Or glides a ghost with unapparent shades; How to Icarius in the bridal hour Shall I, by waste undone, refund the dower? How from my father should I vengeance dread!
How would my mother curse my hated head! And while In wrath to vengeful fiends she cries, How from their hell would vengeful fiends arise!
If this displease, why urge ye here your stay? Haste from the court, ye spoilers, haste away: Waste in wild riot what your land allows, There ply the early feast, and late carouse.
By him, and all the immortal host above A sacred oath , if heaven the power supply, Vengeance I vow, and for your wrongs ye die. What though from pole to pole resounds her name!
Cold in the tomb, or in the deeps below, Ulysses lies; oh wert thou laid as low! His guideless youth, if thy experienced age Mislead fallacious into idle rage, Vengeance deserved thy malice shall repress.
Nor to the great alone is death decreed; We and our guilty Ithaca must bleed. Why cease we then the wrath of heaven to stay?
Be humbled all, and lead, ye great! For lo? Threat on, till all thy stores in waste decay. True, Greece affords a train of lovely dames, In wealth and beauty worthy of our flames: But never from this nobler suit we cease; For wealth and beauty less than virtue please.
Let tyrants govern with an iron rod, Oppress, destroy, and be the scourge of God; Since he who like a father held his reign, So soon forgot, was just and mild in vain!
But against you, ye Greeks! Dumb ye all stand, and not one tongue affords His injured prince the little aid of words.
Without thy presence, vain is thy command: Greece, and the rival train, thy voice withstand.
Join all your powers? Yet would your powers in vain our strength oppose. Should great Ulysses stern appear in arms, While the bowl circles and the banquet warms; Though to his breast his spouse with transport flies, Torn from her breast, that hour, Ulysses dies.
But hence retreating to your domes repair. To arm the vessel, Mentor! But yet, I trust, the boaster means to stay Safe in the court, nor tempt the watery way.
Were not wise sons descendant of the wise, And did not heroes from brave heroes rise, Vain were my hopes : few sons attain the praise Of their great sires, and most their sires disgrace.
And lo, with speed we plough the watery way; My power shall guard thee, and my hand convey: The winged vessel studious I prepare, Through seas and realms companion of thy care.
Then, with a rushing sound the assembly bend Diverse their steps: the rival rout ascend The royal dome; while sad the prince explores The neighbouring main, and sorrowing treads the shores.
Hear from thy heavens above, O warrior maid! Deny your vessels, ye deny in vain: A private voyager I pass the main.
Free breathe the winds, and free the billows flow; And where on earth I live, I live your foe. Meanwhile the mariners, by my command, Shall speed aboard, a valiant chosen band.
Indulge the genial hour, unbend thy soul, Leave thought to age, and drain the flowing bowl. To Pyle or Sparta to demand supplies, Big with revenge, the mighty warrior flies; Or comes from Ephyre with poisons fraught, And kills us all in one tremendous draught!
What mighty labours would he then create, To seize his treasures, and divide his state, The royal palace to the queen convey, Or him she blesses in the bridal day!
A double strength of bars secured the gates; Fast by the door the wise Euryclea waits; Euryclea, who great Ops! And foreign lands contain the mighty dead.
The watery way ill-fated if thou try, All, all must perish, and by fraud you die! Then stay, my, child!
Swift to the shore they move along the strand; The ready vessel rides, the sailors ready stand. Thus he. The matron with uplifted eyes Attests the all-seeing sovereign of the skies.
Then studious she prepares the choicest flour, The strength of wheat and wines an ample store. While to the rival train the prince returns, The martial goddess with impatience burns; Like thee, Telemachus, in voice and size, With speed divine from street to street she flies, She bids the mariners prepared to stand, When night descends, embodied on the strand.
Then to Noemon swift she runs, she flies, And asks a bark: the chief a bark supplies. He bids them bring their stores; the attending train Load the tall bark, and launch into the main, The prince and goddess to the stern ascend; To the strong stroke at once the rowers bend.
Full from the west she bids fresh breezes blow; The sable billows foam and roar below. And now they ship their oars, and crown with wine The holy goblet to the powers divine: Imploring all the gods that reign above, But chief the blue-eyed progeny of Jove.
Telemachus declares the occasion of his coming: and Nestor relates what passed in their return from Troy, how their fleets were separated, and he never since heard of Ulysses.
They discourse concerning the death of Agamemnon, the revenge of Orestes, and the injuries of the suitors.
Nestor advises him to go to Sparta, and inquire further of Menelaus. The sacrifice ending with the night, Minerva vanishes from them in the form of an eagle: Telemachus is lodged in the palace.
The next morning they sacrifice a bullock to Minerva; and Telemachus proceeds on his journey to Sparta, attended by Pisistratus.
The scene lies on the sea-shore of Pylos. There suppliant to the monarch of the flood, At nine green theatres the Pylians stood, Each held five hundred a deputed train , At each, nine oxen on the sand lay slain.
They taste the entrails, and the altars load With smoking thighs, an offering to the god. Full for the port the Ithacensians stand, And furl their sails, and issue on the land.
For nought unprosperous shall thy ways attend, Born with good omens, and with heaven thy friend. Oh grace and glory of the Grecian name!
What toils by sea! How trace the tedious series of our fate? Art thou the son of that illustrious sire? With joy I grasp thee, and with love admire.
So like your voices, and your words so wise, Who finds thee younger must consult his eyes. The great Ulysses; famed from shore to shore For valour much, for hardy suffering more.
If or thy certain eye, or curious ear, Have learnt his fate, the whole dark story clear And, oh! Prepared I stand: he was but born to try The lot of man; to suffer, and to die.
Then so Heaven decreed Ulysses first and Neator disagreed! Thy sire and I were one; nor varied aught In public sentence, or in private thought; Alike to council or the assembly came, With equal souls, and sentiments the same.
Oh blind to fate! The gods not lightly change their love, or hate. With ireful taunts each other they oppose, Till in loud tumult all the Greeks arose.
Now different counsels every breast divide, 54 Pope And how his life by fraud and force he lost, And how the murderer, paid his forfeit breath; What lands so distant from that scene of death But trembling heard the fame?
So fell Aegysthus; and mayest thou, my friend, On whom the virtues of thy sire descend, Make future times thy equal act adore, And be what brave Orestes was before!
The whistling winds already waked the sky; Before the whistling winds the vessels fly, With rapid swiftness cut the liquid way, And reach Gerestus at the point of day.
There hectacombs of bulls, to Neptune slain, High-flaming please the monarch of the main. Just was the vengeance, and to latest days Shall long posterity resound the praise.
Some god this arm with equal prowess bless! And the proud suitors shall its force confess; Injurious men! Death only is the lot which none can miss, And all is possible to Heaven but this.
The best, the dearest favourite of the sky, Must taste that cup, for man is born to die. Say, is the fault, through tame submission, thine?
Or leagued against thee, do thy people join, Moved by some oracle, or voice divine? And yet who knows, but ripening lies in fate An hour of vengeance for the afflicted state; When great Ulysses shall suppress these harms, Ulysses singly, or all Greece in arms.
Soon should their hopes in humble dust be laid, And long oblivion of the bridal bed. Pass we to other subjects; and engage On themes remote the venerable sage Who thrice has seen the perishable kind Of men decay, and through three ages shined Like gods majestic, and like gods in mind ; For much he knows, and just conclusions draws, From various precedents, and various laws.
O son of Neleus! Thus interposed the martial maid divine Forgetful youth! Then virtue was no more; her guard away, She fell, to lust a voluntary prey.
And now the rites discharged, our course we keep Far on the gloomy bosom of the deep: Live Menelaus not in Greece?
At first, with the worthy shame and decent pride, The royal dame his lawless suit denied. But when the gods these objects of their hate 57 The Odyssey of Homer The vile assassin and adulterous dame.
However, my friend, indulge one labour more, And seek Atrides on the Spartan shore. The tempest scatters, and divides our fleet; Part, the storm urges on the coast of Crete, Where winding round the rich Cydonian plain, The streams of Jardan issue to the main.
Me, as some needy peasant, would ye leave, Whom Heaven denies the blessing to relieve? Me would ye leave, who boast imperial sway, When beds of royal state invite your stay?
Here shall the wandering stranger find his home, And hospitable rites adorn the dome. Wise are thy words, and just are all thy ways.
The toungues they cast upon the fragrant flame, And pour, above, the consecrated stream. There when arrived, on thrones around him placed, His sons and grandsons the wide circle graced.
Each drinks a full oblivion of his cares, And to the gifts of balmy sleep repairs. Deep in a rich alcove the prince was laid, And slept beneath the pompous colonnade; Fast by his side Pisistratus was spread In age his equal on a splendid bed: But in an inner court, securely closed, The reverend Nestor and his queen resposed.
Prepare thy chariot at the dawn of day, And be thy son companion of his way. Vision divine!
Whose early years for future worth engage, No vulgar manhood, no ignoble age. For lo! So guide me, goddess! A yearling bullock to thy name shall smoke, Untamed, unconscious of the galling yoke, With ample forhead, and yet tender horns, Whose budding honours ductile gold adorns.
So wrought as Pallas might with pride behold. Stratius and Echephron the victim led; The axe was held by warlike Thrasymed, In act to strike; before him Perseus stood, The vase extending to receive the blood.
The king himself initiates to the power: Scatters with quivering hand the sacred flour, And the stream sprinkles; from the curling brows The hair collected in the fire he throws.
Soon as due vows on every part were paid, And sacred wheat upon the victim laid, Strong Thrasymed discharged the speeding blow Full on his neck, and cut the nerves in two.
Down sunk the heavy beast; the females round Maids, wives, and matrons, mix a shrilling sound. His sons around him mild obeisance pay, And duteous take the orders of the day.
First Eehephron and Stratius quit their bed; Then Perseus, Aretus, and Thrasymed; The last Pisistratus arose from rest: They came, and near him placed the stranger-guest.
To Pallas, first of gods, prepare the feast, Who graced our rites, a more than mortal guest Let one, despatchful, bid some swain to lead A well-fed bullock from the grassy mead; One seek the harbour where the vessels moor, And bring thy friends, Telemachus!
The rest may here the pious duty share, And bid the handmaids for the feast prepare, The seats to range, the fragrant wood to bring, And limpid waters from the living spring.
Observant of his word, tire word scarce spoke, The sons obey, and join them to the yoke. Then bread and wine a ready handmaid brings, And presents, such as suit the state of kings.
Beneath the bounding yoke alike they hold Their equal pace, and smoked along the field. In youth by Nestor loved, of spotless fame.
And loved in age, Eurydice her name. The soul for ever flies; on all sides round Streams the black blood, and smokes upon the ground The beast they then divide and disunite The ribs and limbs, observant of the rite: On these, in double cauls involved with art, The choicest morsels lay from every part.
The sacred sage before his altar stands, Turns the burnt offering with his holy hands, And pours the wine, and bids the flames aspire; The youth with instruments surround the fire.
His house affords the hospitable rite, And pleased they sleep the blessing of the night. He dwells more at large upon the prophecies of Proteus to him in his return; from which he acquaints Telemachus that Ulysses is detained in the island of Calypso.
In the meantime the suitors consult to destroy Telemachus on the voyage home. Penelope is apprised of this; but comforted in a dream by Pallas, in the shape of her sister Iphthima.
These prodigies of art, and wondrous cost! Above, beneath, around the palace shines The sunless treasure of exhausted mines; The spoils of elephants the roofs inlay, And studded amber darts the golden ray; Such, and not nobler, in the realms above My wonder dictates is the dome of Jove.
My wars, the copious theme of every tongue, To you your fathers have recorded long. Still in short intervals of pleasing woe.
Regardful of the friendly dues I owe, I to the glorious dead, for ever dear! Indulge the tribute of a grateful tear. But oh! In this suspense bright Helen graced the room; Before her breathed a gale of rich perfume.
There with commutual zeal we both had strove In acts of dear benevolence and love: Brothers in peace, not rivals in command, And death alone dissolved the friendly band!
Thy voice, O king! Such, happy Nestor! Expert of arms, and prudent in debate; The gifts of Heaven to guard thy hoary state.
But now let each becalm his troubled breast, Wash, and partake serene the friendly feast. I boast a witness of his worth in thee.
Though on the blazing pile his parent lay. Meantime Minerva, from the fraudful horse, Back to the court of Priam bent your course.
Some demon, anxious for the Trojan doom, Urged you with great Deiphobus to come, To explore the fraud; with guile opposed to guile.
Telemachus replies, Frail is the boasted attribute of wise: The leader mingling with the vulgar host, Is in the common mass of matter lost!
But now let sleep the painful waste repair Of sad reflection and corroding care. With equal fury, and with equal fame, Ulysses soon shall reassert his claim.
O Jove supreme, whom gods and men revere! And thou! But prostrate I implore, O king! Recite them; nor in erring pity fear To wound with storied grief the filial ear.
What power becalms the innavigable seas? What guilt provokes him, and what vows appease? To that recess, commodious for surprise, When purple light shall next suffuse the skies, With me repair; and from thy warrior-band Three chosen chiefs of dauntless soul commamd; Let their auxiliar force befriend the toil; For strong the god, and perfected in guile.
Watch with insidious care his known abode; There fast in chains constrain the various god; Who bound, obedient to superior force, Unerring will prescribe your destined course.
If, studious on your realms, you then demand Their state, since last you left your natal land, Instant the god obsequious will disclose Bright tracts of glory or a cloud of woes.
Who, straight propitious, in prophetic strain Will teach you to repass the unmeasured main. She ceased, and bounding from the shelfy shore, Round the descending nymph the waves resounding roar.
Pleased with the false review, secure he lies, And leaden slumbers press his drooping eyes. At last, sublime, his stately growth he rears A tree, and well-dissembled foliage wears.
Fast by the deep, Along the tented shore, in balmy sleep, Our cares were lost. Arrived, to form along the appointed strand For each a bed, she scoops the hilly sand; Then, from her azure cave the finny spoils Of four vast Phocae takes, to veil her wiles; Beneath the finny spoils extended prone, Hard toil!
All-knowing, say, What godhead interdicts the watery way? But deign to say What fate propitious, or what dire dismay, Sustain those peers, the relics of our host, Whom I with Nestor on the Phrygian coast Embracing left?
Or did the kind domestic friend deplore The breathless heroes on their native shore? To the firm sanction of thy fate attend!
Then will the gods with holy pomp adored, To thy long vows a safe return accord. Part live! Then bids prepare the hospitable treat: Vain shows of love to veil his felon hate!
The troop forth-issuing from the dark recess, With homicidal rage the king oppress! But oh, beloved by Heaven! Then speeding back, involved in various thought, My friends attending at the shore I sought, Arrived, the rage of hunger we control Till night with silent shade invests the pole; Then lose the cares of life in pleasing rest.
Soon as the morn reveals the roseate east, With sails we wing the masts, our anchors weigh, Unmoor the fleet, and rush into the sea.
And now, young prince, indulge my fond request; 79 The Odyssey of Homer Small tract of fertile lawn, the least to mine.
For Elis I should sail with utmost speed. To import twelve mares which there luxurious feed, And twelve young mules, a strong laborious race, New to the plow, unpractised in the trace.
Did chosen chiefs across the gulfy main Attend his voyage, or domestic train? Spontaneous did you speed his secret course, Or was the vessel seized by fraud or force?
Heaven grant this festival may prove their last! Or, if they still must live, from me remove The double plague of luxury and love! Forbear, ye sons of insolence!
Have not your fathers oft my lord defined, Gentle of speech, beneficent of mind? His stores ye ravage, and usurp his state.
Fly unperceived, seducing half the flower Of nobles, and invite a foreign power? The ponderous engine raised to crush us all, Recoiling, on his head is sure to fall.
They form a deed more odious and accursed; With vast applause the sentence all approve; 81 The Odyssey of Homer More dreadful than your boding soul divines; But pitying Jove avert the dire designs!
The darling object of your royal care Is marked to perish in a deathful snare; Before he anchors in his native port, From Pyle re-sailing and the Spartan court; Horrid to speak!
Words to her dumb complaint a pause supplies, And breath, to waste in unavailing cries. Did he with all the greatly wretched, crave A blank oblivion, and untimely grave?
Did ever sorrows equal mine? Ill suits it with your shows of duteous zeal, From me the puposed voyage to conceal; Though at the solemn midnight hour he rose, Why did you fear to trouble my repose?
Experienced age May timely intercept the ruffian rage. Convene the tribes the murderous plot reveal, And to their power to save his race appeal.
Send not to good Laertes, nor engage In toils of state the miseries of age: Tis impious to surmise the powers divine To ruin doom the Jove-descended line; Long shall the race of just Arcesius reign, And isles remote enlarge his old domain.
Swift on the regal dome, descending right, The bolted valves are pervious to her flight. Thy son the gods propitious will restore, And bid thee cease his absence to deplore.
How in a realm so distant should you know From what deep source ceaseless sorrows flow? My darling son is fled! Me now the guardian goddess deigns to send, To bid thee patient his return attend.
And you who fill the blissful seats above! Let kings no more with gentle mercy sway, Or bless a people willing to obey, But crush the nations with an iron rod, And every monarch be the scourge of God.
Nor friends are there, nor vessels to convey, Nor oars to cut the immeasurable way. The seat of Calypso described.
She consents with much difficulty; and Ulysses builds a vessel with his own hands, in which he embarks.
Neptune overtakes him with a terrible tempest, in which he is shipwrecked, and in the last danger of death; till Lencothea, a sea-goddess, assists him, and, after innumerable perils, he gets ashore on Phaeacia.
Then met the eternal synod of the sky, Before the god, who thunders from on high, Supreme in might, sublime in majesty.
The god who mounts the winged winds Fast to his feet the golden pinions binds, That high through fields of air his flight sustain 87 The Odyssey of Homer Arrivest thou here, an unexpected guest?
Till now a stranger, in a happy hour Approach, and taste the dainties of my bower. Depending vines the shelving cavern screen.
With purple clusters blushing through the green. A scene, where, if a god should cast his sight, A god might gaze, and wander with delight!
Thus having spoke, the nymph the table spread Ambrosial cates, with nectar rosy-red ; Hermes the hospitable rite partook, Divine refection!
Hear then the truth. A man, he says, a man resides with thee, Of all his kind most worn with misery.
Am I the envy of your blissful bowers? Go then he must he must, if he ordain, Try all those dangers, all those deeps, again ; But never, never shall Calypso send To toils like these her husband and her friend.
What ships have I, what sailors to convey, What oars to cut the long laborious way? There all his vessels sunk beneath the wave!
There all his dear companions found their grave! Him, Jove now orders to his native lands Straight to dismiss: so destiny commands: Impatient Fate his near return attends, And calls him to his country, and his friends.
Still to your own ethereal race the worst! The bold proposal how shall I fulfil, Dark as I am, unconscious of thy will? But hear, O earth, and hear, ye sacred skies!
And thou, O Styx! A willing goddess, and immortal life. Might banish from thy mind an absent wife.
Am I inferior to a mortal dame? Less soft my feature less august my frame? Or shall the daughters of mankind compare Their earth born beauties with the heavenly fair?
Heaven has not cursed me with a heart of steel, But given the sense to pity, and to feel. At the cool cave arrived, they took their state; He filled the throne where Mercury had sate.
For him the nymph a rich repast ordains, Such as the mortal life of man sustains; Before herself were placed the the cates divine, Ambrosial banquet and celestial wine.
Loved and adored, O goddess as thou art, Forgive the weakness of a human heart. Though well I see thy graces far above The dear, though mortal, object of my love, Of youth eternal well the difference know, And the short date of fading charms below; Yet every day, while absent thus I roam, I languish to return and die at home.
Is then thy home the passion of thy heart? Thus wilt thou leave me, are we thus to part? But ah, Ulysses! Thy loom, Calypso, for the future sails Supplied the cloth, capacious of the gales.
And rising night her friendly shade extends, To the close grot the lonely pair remove, And slept delighted with the gifts of love.
Is then our anger vain? No; if this sceptre yet commands the main. To which, around the axle of the sky, The Bear, revolving, points his golden eye: Who shines exalted on the ethereal plain, Nor bathes his blazing forehead in the main.
Down rushed the night: east, west, together roar; And south and north roll mountains to the shore. Too well, alas! Unequal contest! To reach Phaeacia all thy nerves extend, There Fate decrees thy miseries shall end.
This heavenly scarf beneath thy bosom bind, And live; give all thy terrors to the wind. Soon as thy arms the happy shore shall gain, Return the gift, and cast it in the main: Observe my orders, and with heed obey, Death, present death, on every side appears.
A shameful fate now hides my hapless head, Unwept, unnoted, and for ever dead! All naked now, on heaving billows laid, Stern Neptune eyed him, and contemptuous said: Cast it far off, and turn thy eyes away.
Go, wander helpless on the watery way; Thus, thus find out the destined shore, and then If Jove ordains it mix with happier men. And now, as near approaching as the sound Of human voice the listening ear may wound, Amidst the rocks he heard a hollow roar Of murmuring surges breaking on the shore; Nor peaceful port was there, nor winding bay, To shield the vessel from the rolling sea, But cliffs and shaggy shores, a dreadful sight!
Above, sharp rocks forbid access; around Roar the wild waves; beneath, is sea profound! No footing sure affords the faithless sand, To stem too rapid, and too deep to stand.
Or some enormous whale the god may send For many such an Amphitrite attend ; Too well the turns of mortal chance I know, And hate relentless of my heavenly foe.
Behind him far, upon the purple waves, The waters waft it, and the nymph receives. And yet, ah yet, what fates are we to try? Here by the stream, if I the night out-wear, Thus spent already, how shall nature bear The dews descending, and nocturnal air; Or chilly vapours breathing from the flood When morning rises?
Perhaps I yet may fall a bloody prey To prowling bears, or lions in the way. There grew two olives, closest of the grove, With roots entwined, the branches interwove; Alike their leaves, but not alike they smiled With sister-fruits; one fertile, one was wild.
Now in the silent grave the monarch lay, And wise Alcinous held the legal sway. Nausicaa goes with her handmaidens to the river; where, while the garments are spread on the bank, they divert them- To his high palace through the fields of air The goddess shot; Ulysses was her care.
Their voices awaken Ulysses, who, addressing himself to the princess, is by her relieved and clothed, and receives directions in what manner to apply to the king and queen of the island.
Thy spousal ornament neglected lies; Arise, prepare the bridal train, arise! Virgin, awake! The royal car at early dawn obtain, And order mules obedient to the rein; For rough the way, and distant rolls the wave, Where their fair vests Phaeacian virgins lave, In pomp ride forth; for pomp becomes the great And majesty derives a grace from state.
There no rude winds presume to shake the skies, No rains descend, no snowy vapours rise; But on immortal thrones the blest repose; The firmament with living splendours glows.
Now from her rosy car Aurora shed The dawn, and all the orient flamed with red. Up rose the virgin with the morning light, Obedient to the vision of the night.
Say, with my garments shall I bend my way? Where through the vales the mazy waters stray? A dignity of dress adorns the great, And kings draw lustre from the robe of state.
Five sons thou hast; three wait the bridal day. The queen, assiduous to her train assigns The sumptuous viands, and the flavorous wines. Now mounting the gay seat, the silken reins Shine in her hand; along the sounding plains Swift fly the mules; nor rode the nymph alone; Around, a bevy of bright damsels shone.
They seek the cisterns where Phaeacian dames Wash their fair garments in the limpid streams; Where, gathering into depth from falling rills, The lucid wave a spacious bason fills.
They sport, they feast; Nausicaa lifts her voice, And, warbling sweet, makes earth and heaven rejoice. What sounds are these that gather from he shores?
Meantime in dubious thought the king awaits, And, self-considering, as he stands, debates; Distant his mournful story to declare, Or prostrate at her knee address the prayer.
If in that bright disguise Thou visit earth, a daughter of the skies, Hail, Dian, hail! But if thy race Be mortal, and this earth thy native place, Blest is the father from whose loins you sprung, Blest is the mother at whose breast you hung.
Blest are the brethren who thy blood divide, To such a miracle of charms allied: And the loud shriek redoubles from the main.
Waked by the shrilling sound, Ulysses rose, And, to the deaf woods wailing, breathed his woes: Pope Joyful they see applauding princes gaze, When stately in the dance you swim the harmonious maze.
I gaze, and I adore! By the Delian coast, I voyaged, leader of a warrior-host, But ah, how changed I from thence my sorrow flows; O fatal voyage, source of all my woes; Raptured I stood, and as this hour amazed, With reverence at the lofty wonder gazed: Raptured I stand!
Awed from access, I lift my suppliant hands; For Misery, O queen! Inured to cares, to death in all its forms; Outcast I rove, familiar with the storms.
Once more I view the face of human kind: Oh let soft pity touch thy generous mind! Unconscious of what air I breathe, I stand Naked, defenceless on a narrow land.
Propitious to my wants a vest supply To guard the wretched from the inclement sky: So may the gods, who heaven and earth control, Crown the chaste wishes of thy virtuous soul, On thy soft hours their choicest blessings shed; Blest with a husband be thy bridal bed; Blest be thy husband with a blooming race, And lasting union crown your blissful days.
The gods, when they supremely bless, bestow Firm union on their favourites below; Then envy grieves, with inly-pining hate; The good exult, and heaven is in our state.
Dread ye a foe? By Jove the stranger and the poor are sent; And what to those we give to Jove is lent. Then food supply, and bathe his fainting limbs Where waving shades obscure the mazy streams.
Retire, while from my wearied limbs I lave The foul pollution of the briny wave. Ye gods! But, nymphs, recede! The warrior-goddess gives his frame to shine With majesty enlarged, and air divine: Back from his brows a length of hair unfurls, His hyacinthine locks descend in wavy curls.
A fragrance breathes around; majestic grace Attends his steps: the astonished virgins gaze. Soft he reclines along the murmuring seas, Inhaling freshness from the fanning breeze.
Late, a sad spectacle of woe, he trod The desert sands, and now be looks a god. Oh heaven! But haste, the viands and the bowl provide. Heavens, with what graceful majesty he treads!
Perhaps a native of some distant shore, The future consort of her bridal hour: Or rather some descendant of the skies; Won by her prayer, the aerial bridegroom flies, Heaven on that hour its choicest influence shed, That gave a foreign spouse to crown her bed!
Hence lies the town, as far as to the ear Floats a strong shout along the waves of air. Arrived, advance, impatient of delay, And to the lofty palace bend thy way: The lofty palace overlooks the town, From every dome by pomp superior known; A child may point the way.
With earnest gait Seek thou the queen along the rooms of state; Her royal hand a wondrous work designs, Around a circle of bright damsels shines; Part twist the threads, and part the wool dispose, While with the purple orb the spindle glows.
High on a throne, amid the Scherian powers, My royal father shares the genial hours: But to the queen thy mournful tale disclose, With the prevailing eloquence of woes: So shalt thou view with joy thy natal shore, Though mountains rise between and oceans roar.
He is met by Pallas in the form of a young virgin, who guides him to the palace, and directs him in what manner to address the queen Arete.
She then involves him in a mist which causes him to pass invisible. The palace and gardens of Alcinous described. Ulysses falling at the feet of the queen, the mist disperses, the Phaecians admire, and receive him with respect.
The queen inquiring by what means he had the garments he then wore, be relates to her and Alcinous his departure from Calypso, and his arrival in their dominions.
The same day continues, and the book ends with the night. With ready love her brothers, gathering round, Received the vestures, and the mules unbound.
Now from the sacred thicket where he lay, To town Ulysses took the winding way. Far from my native coast, I rove alone, A wretched stranger, and of all unknown!
These did the ruler of the deep ordain To build proud navies, and command the main; On canvas wings to cut the watery way; No bird so light, no thought so swift as they.
That gird the city like a marble zone. High-throned, and feasting, there thou shalt behold The sceptred rulers. The same her parents, and her power the same.
With honours yet to womankind unknown. This queen he graces, and divides the throne; In equal tenderness her sons conspire, And all the children emulate their sire.
When through the streets she gracious deigns to move The public wonder and the public love , The tongues of all with transport sound her praise, The eyes of all, as on a goddess, gaze.
Full fifty handmaids form the household train; Some turn the mill, or sift the golden grain; Some ply the loom; their busy fingers move Like poplar-leaves when Zephyr fans the grove.
Close to the gates a spacious garden lies, From storms defended and inclement skies. Four acres was the allotted space of ground, Fenced with a green enclosure all around.
Silence ensued. The eldest first began, Echeneus sage, a venerable man! A guest, a stranger, seated in the dust! To raise the lowly suppliant from the ground Befits a monarch.
Then must he suffer what the Fates ordain; For Fate has wove the thread of life with pain? But if, descended from the Olympian bower, Gracious approach us some immortal power; If in that form thou comest a guest divine: Some high event the conscious gods design.
So near approach we their celestial kind, By justice, truth, and probity of mind; As our dire neighbours of Cyclopean birth Match in fierce wrong the giant-sons of earth.
How more inferior in the gifts of mind! Alas, a mortal! What histories of toil could I declare! But still long-wearied nature wants repair; Spent with fatigue, and shrunk with pining fast, My craving bowels still require repast.
But finish, oh ye peers! Pleased will I suffer all the gods ordain, To see my soil, my son, my friends again. That view vouchsafed, let instant death surprise With ever-during shade these happy eyes!
Tell, then, whence art thou? And robes like these, so recent and so fair? Yet what you ask, attend. Remote from gods or men she holds her reign, Amid the terrors of a rolling main.
Me, only me, the hand of fortune bore, Unblest! I stay reluctant seven continued years, And water her ambrosial couch with tears, The eighth she voluntary moves to part, Or urged by Jove, or her own changeful heart.
I fainted by the flood; Then took the shelter of the neighbouring wood. All night I slept, oblivious of my pain: Aurora dawned and Phoebus shined in vain, Nor, till oblique he sloped his evening ray, Had Somnus dried the balmy dews away.
Who from such youth could hope considerate care? In youth and beauty wisdom is but rare! She gave me life, relieved with just supplies My wants, and lent these robes that strike your eyes.
This is the truth: and oh, ye powers on high! Forbid that want should sink me to a lie. Suppliant to her, since first he chose to pray, Why not herself did she conduct the way, And with her handmaids to our court convey?
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