NOW had Minerva reachd those ample plains, | |
| Famed for the dance, where Menelaüs reigns; | |
| Anxious she flies to great Ulysses heir, | |
| His instant voyage challenged all her care. | |
| Beneath the royal portico displayd, | 5 |
| With Nestors son Telemachus was laid; | |
| In sleep profound the son of Nestor lies; | |
| Not thine, Ulysses! Care unseald his eyes: | |
| Restless he grievd, with various fears oppressd | |
| And all thy fortunes rolld within his breast | 10 |
| When O Telemachus! (the goddess said) | |
| Too long in vain, too widely hast thou strayd, | |
| Thus leaving careless thy paternal right | |
| The robbers prize, the prey to lawless might, | |
| On fond pursuits neglectful while you roam, | 15 |
| Evn now the hand of rapine sacks the dome. | |
| Hence to Atrides; and his leave implore | |
| To launch thy vessel for thy natal shore: | |
| Fly, whilst thy mother virtuous yet withstands | |
| Her kindreds wishes, and her sires commands; | 20 |
| Thro both, Eurymachus pursues the dame, | |
| And with the noblest gifts asserts his claim. | |
| Hence therefore, while thy stores thy own remain; | |
| Thou knowst the practice of the female train; | |
| Lost in the children of the present spouse, | 25 |
| They slight the pledges of their former vows; | |
| Their love is always with the lover past; | |
| Still the succeeding flame expels the last. | |
| Let oer thy house some chosen maid preside, | |
| Till Heavn decrees to bless thee in a bride. | 30 |
| But now thy more attentive ears incline, | |
| Observe the warnings of a Power divine; | |
| For thee their snares the suitor lords shall lay | |
| In Samos sands, or straits of Ithaca; | |
| To seize thy life shall lurk the murdrous band, | 35 |
| Ere yet thy footsteps press thy native land. | |
| Nosooner far their riot and their lust | |
| All-covring earth shall lurk the murdrous band, | |
| Then distant from the scatterd islands steer, | |
| Nor let the night retard thy fall career; | 40 |
| Thy heavnly guardian shall instruct the gales | |
| To smooth thy passage and supply thy sails: | |
| And when at Ithaca thy labour ends, | |
| Send to the town the vessel with thy friends; | |
| But seek thou first the master of the swine, | 45 |
| (For still to thee his loyal thoughts incline); | |
| There pass the night; while he his course pursues | |
| To bring Penelope the wishd-for news, | |
| That thou, safe sailing from the Pylian strand, | |
| Art come to bless her in thy native land. | 50 |
| Thus spoke the Goddess, and resumed her flight | |
| To the pure regions of eternal light. | |
| Meanwhile Pisistratus he gently shakes, | |
| And with these words the slumbring youth awakes: | |
| Rise, son of Nestor; for the road prepare, | 55 |
| And join the harnessd coursers to the car. | |
| What cause, he cried, can justify our flight | |
| To tempt the dangers of forbidding night? | |
| Here wait we rather, till approaching day | |
| Shall prompt our speed, and point the ready way. | 60 |
| Nor think of flight before the Spartan King | |
| Shall bid farewell, and bounteous presents bring; | |
| Gifts, which to distant ages safely stord, | |
| The sacred act of friendship shall record. | |
| Thus he. But when the dawn bestreakd the east, | 65 |
| The King from Helen rose, and sought his guest. | |
| As soon as his approach the Hero knew, | |
| The splendid mantle round him first he threw, | |
| Then oer his ample shoulders whirld the cloak, | |
| Respectful met the Monarch, and bespoke: | 70 |
| Hail, great Atrides, favourd of high Jove! | |
| Let not thy friends in vain for license move. | |
| Swift let us measure back the watry way, | |
| Nor check our speed, impatient of delay. | |
| If with desire so strong thy bosom glows, | 75 |
| Ill, said the King, should I thy wish oppose: | |
| For oft in others freely I reprove | |
| The ill-timed efforts of officious love; | |
| Who love too much, hate in the like extreme, | |
| And both the golden mean alike condemn. | 80 |
| Alike he thwarts the hospitable end, | |
| Who drives the free, or stays the hasty friend: | |
| True friendships laws are by this rule expressd, | |
| Welcome the coming, speed the parting guest. | |
| Yet stay, my friends, and in your chariot take | 85 |
| The noblest presents that our love can make; | |
| Meantime commit we to our womens care | |
| Some choice domestic viands to prepare; | |
| The travler, rising from the banquet gay, | |
| Eludes the labours of the tedious way. | 90 |
| Then if a wider course shall rather please, | |
| Thro spacious Argos and the realms of Greece, | |
| Atrides in his chariot shall attend; | |
| Himself thy convoy to each royal friend. | |
| No Prince will let Ulysses heir remove | 95 |
| Without some pledge, some monument of love: | |
| These will the cauldron, these the tripod give; | |
| From those the well-paird mules we shall receive, | |
| Or bowl embossd whose golden figures live. | |
| To whom the youth, for prudence famed, replied: | 100 |
| O Monarch, Care of Heavn! thy peoples pride! | |
| No friend in Ithaca my place supplies, | |
| No powerful hands are there, no watchful eyes: | |
| My stores exposed and fenceless house demand | |
| The speediest succour from my guardian hand; | 105 |
| Lest, in a search too anxious and too vain | |
| Of one lost joy, I lose what yet remain. | |
| His purpose when the genrous Warrior heard, | |
| He charged the household cates to be prepared. | |
| Now with the dawn, from his adjoining home, | 110 |
| Was Bthdes Eteoneus come; | |
| Swift at the word he forms the rising blaze, | |
| And oer the coals the smoking fragments lays. | |
| Meantime the King, his son, and Helen went | |
| Where the rich wardrobe breathed a costly scent. | 115 |
| The King selected from the glittring rows | |
| A bowl; the Prince a silver beaker chose. | |
| The beauteous Queen revolvd with careful eyes | |
| Her various textures of unnumberd dyes, | |
| And chose the largest; with no vulgar art | 120 |
| Her own fair hands embroiderd every part: | |
| Beneath the rest it lay divinely bright, | |
| Like radiant Hesper oer the gems of night. | |
| Then with each gift they hastend to their guest, | |
| And thus the King Ulysses heir addressd: | 125 |
| Since fixd are thy resolves, may thundring Jove | |
| With happiest omens thy desires approve! | |
| This silver bowl, whose costly margins shine | |
| Enchased with gold, this valued gift be thine; | |
| To me this present, of Vulcanian frame, | 130 |
| From Sidons hospitable Monarch came; | |
| To thee we now consign the precious load, | |
| The pride of Kings, and labour of a God. | |
| Then gave the cup, while Megapenthe brought | |
| The silver vase with living sculpture wrought. | 135 |
| The beauteous Queen, advancing next, displayd | |
| The shining veil, and thus endearing said: | |
| Accept, dear youth, this monument of love, | |
| Long since, in better days, by Helen wove: | |
| Safe in thy mothers care the vesture lay, | 140 |
| To deck thy bride, and grace thy nuptial day. | |
| Meantime mayst thou with happiest speed regain | |
| Thy stately palace, and thy wide domain. | |
| She said, and gave the veil; with grateful look | |
| The Prince the variegated present took. | 145 |
| And now, when thro the royal dome they passd, | |
| High on a throne the King each stranger placed. | |
| A golden ewer th attendant damsel brings, | |
| Replete with water from the crystal springs; | |
| With copious streams the shining vase supplies | 150 |
| A silver laver of capacious size. | |
| They wash. The tables in fair order spread, | |
| The glittring canisters are crownd with bread; | |
| Viands of various kinds allure the taste, | |
| Of choicest sort and savour; rich repast! | 155 |
| Whilst Eteoneus portions out the shares, | |
| Atrides son the purple draught prepares. | |
| And now (each sated with the genial feast, | |
| And the short rage of thirst and hunger ceasd), | |
| Ulysses son, with his illustrious friend, | 160 |
| The horses join, the polishd car ascend. | |
| Along the court the fiery steeds rebound, | |
| And the wide portal echoes to the sound. | |
| The King precedes; a bowl with fragrant wine | |
| (Libation destind to the Powers divine) | 165 |
| His right hand held: before the steeds he stands, | |
| Then, mixd with prayers, he utters these commands: | |
| Farewell, and prosper, Youths! let Nestor know | |
| What grateful thoughts still in this bosom glow, | |
| For all the proofs of his paternal care, | 170 |
| Thro the long dangers of the ten years war. | |
| Ah! doubt not our report (the Prince rejoind) | |
| Of all the virtues of thy genrous mind. | |
| And oh! returnd might we Ulysses meet! | |
| To him thy presents show, thy words repeat: | 175 |
| How will each speech his grateful wonder raise! | |
| How will each gift indulge us in thy praise! | |
| Scarce ended thus the Prince, when on the right | |
| Advancd the bird of Jove: auspicious sight! | |
| A milk-white fowl his clinching talons bore, | 180 |
| With care domestic pamperd at the floor. | |
| Peasants in vain with threatning cries pursue, | |
| In solemn speed the bird majestic flew | |
| Full dexter to the car: the prosprous sight | |
| Filld evry breast with wonder and delight. | 185 |
| But Nestors son the cheerful silence broke, | |
| And in these words the Spartan Chief bespoke: | |
| Say if to us the Gods these omens send, | |
| Or fates peculiar to thyself portend? | |
| Whilst yet the Monarch pausd, with doubts oppressd, | 190 |
| The beauteous Queen relievd his labring breast: | |
| Hear me (she cried), to whom the Gods have given | |
| To read this sign, and mystic sense of Heavn. | |
| As thus the plumy sovreign of the air | |
| Left on the mountains brow his callow care, | 195 |
| And wanderd thro the wide ethereal way | |
| To pour his wrath on you luxurious prey; | |
| So shall thy godlike father, tossd in vain | |
| Thro all the dangers of the boundless main, | |
| Arrive (or is perchance already come), | 200 |
| From slaughterd gluttons to release the dome. | |
| Oh! if this promisd bliss by thundring Jove | |
| (The Prince replied) stand fixd in Fate above; | |
| To thee, as to some God, I ll temples raise, | |
| And crown thy altars with the costly blaze. | 205 |
| He said; and, bending oer his chariot, flung | |
| Athwart the fiery steeds the smarting thong; | |
| The bounding shafts upon the harness play, | |
| Till night descending intercepts the way. | |
| To Diocles at Pheræ they repair, | 210 |
| Whose boasted sire was sacred Alpheus heir; | |
| With him all night the youthful strangers stayd, | |
| Nor found the hospitable rites unpaid. | |
| But soon as Morning from her orient bed | |
| Had tinged the mountains with her earliest red, | 215 |
| They joind the steeds, and on the chariot sprung; | |
| The brazen portals in their passage rung. | |
| To Pylos soon they came; when thus begun | |
| To Nestors heir Ulysses godlike son: | |
| Let not Pisistratus in vain be pressd, | 220 |
| Nor unconsenting hear his friends request; | |
| His friend by long hereditary claim, | |
| In toils his equal, and in years the same. | |
| No farther from our vessel, I implore, | |
| The coursers drive; but lash them to the shore. | 225 |
| Too long thy father would his friend detain; | |
| I dread his profferd kindness urged in vain. | |
| The Hero pausd, and ponderd this request, | |
| While love and duty warrd within his breast. | |
| At length resolvd, he turnd his ready hand, | 230 |
| And lashd his panting coursers to the strand. | |
| There, while within the poop with care he stord | |
| The regal presents of the Spartan lord, | |
| With speed begone (said he); call every mate, | |
| Ere yet to Nestor I the tale relate: | 235 |
| T is true, the fervour of his genrous heart | |
| Brooks no repulse, nor couldst thou soon depart: | |
| Himself will seek thee here, nor wilt thou find, | |
| In words alone, the Pylian Monarch kind. | |
| But when, arrived, he thy return shall know, | 240 |
| How will his breast with honest fury glow! | |
| This said, the sounding strokes his horses fire, | |
| And soon he reachd the palace of his sire. | |
| Now (cried Telemachus) with speedy care | |
| Hoist evry sail, and evry oar prepare! | 245 |
| Swift as the word his willing mates obey, | |
| And seize their seats, impatient for the sea. | |
| Meantime the Prince with sacrifice adores | |
| Minerva, and her guardian aid implores; | |
| When lo! a wretch ran breathless to the shore, | 250 |
| New from his crime; and reeking yet with gore. | |
| A seer he was, from great Melampus sprung, | |
| Melampus, who in Pylos flourishd long, | |
| Till, urged by wrongs, a foreign realm he chose, | |
| Far from the hateful cause of all his woes. | 255 |
| Neleus his treasures one long year detains: | |
| As long he groand in Phylacuss chains: | |
| Meantime, what anguish and what rage combind, | |
| For lovely Pero rackd his labring mind! | |
| Yet scaped he death: and, vengeful of his wrong, | 260 |
| To Pylos drove the lowing herds along: | |
| Then (Neleus vanquishd, and consignd the fair | |
| To Bias arms) he sought a foreign air; | |
| Argos the rich for his retreat he chose; | |
| There formd his empire: there his palace rose. | 265 |
| From him Antiphates and Mantius came; | |
| The first begot Oïcleus great in fame, | |
| And he Amphiaraüs, immortal name! | |
| The peoples saviour, and divinely wise, | |
| Belovd by Jove, and him who gilds the skies; | 270 |
| Yet short his date of life! by female pride he dies. | |
| From Mantius Clitus, whom Auroras love | |
| Snatchd for his beauty to the thrones above; | |
| And Polyphides, on whom Phbus shone | |
| With fullest rays, Amphiaraüs now gone; | 275 |
| In Hyperesias groves he made abode, | |
| And taught mankind the counsels of the God. | |
| From him sprung Theoclymenus, who found | |
| (The sacred wine yet foaming on the ground) | |
| Telemachus: whom, as to Heavn he pressd | 280 |
| His ardent vows, the stranger thus addressd: | |
| O thou! that thy happy course prepare | |
| With pure libations and with solemn prayer; | |
| By that dread Power to whom thy vows are paid; | |
| By all the lives of these; thy own dear head, | 285 |
| Declare sincerely to no foes demand | |
| Thy name, thy lineage, and paternal land. | |
| Prepare, then, said Telemachus, to know | |
| A tale from falsehood free, not free from woe. | |
| From Ithaca, of royal birth I came, | 290 |
| And great Ulysses (ever-honourd name!) | |
| Once was my sire, tho now for ever lost, | |
| In Stygian gloom he glides a pensive ghost! | |
| Whose fate inquiring thro the world we rove: | |
| The last, the wretched proof of filial love. | 295 |
| The stranger then: Nor shall I aught conceal, | |
| But the dire secret of my fate reveal. | |
| Of my own tribe an Argive wretch I slew; | |
| Whose powerful friends the luckless deed pursue | |
| With unrelenting rage, and force from home | 300 |
| The blood-staind exile, ever doomd to roam. | |
| But bear, oh bear me oer you azure flood; | |
| Receive the suppliant! spare my destind blood! | |
| Stranger (replied the Prince), securely rest | |
| Affiancd in our faith; henceforth our guest. | 305 |
| Thus affable, Ulysses godlike heir | |
| Takes from the strangers hand the glittring spear: | |
| He climbs the ship, ascends the stern with haste, | |
| And by his side the guest accepted placed. | |
| The Chief his order gives: th obedient band | 310 |
| With due observance wait the Chiefs command. | |
| With speed the mast they rear, with speed unbind | |
| The spacious sheet, and stretch it to the wind. | |
| Minerva calls; the ready gales obey | |
| With rapid speed to whirl them oer the sea. | 315 |
| Crunus they passd, next Chalcis rolld away, | |
| When thickning darkness closed the doubtful day; | |
| The silver Phæas glittring rills they lost, | |
| And skimmd along by Elis sacred coast. | |
| Then cautious thro the rocky reaches wind, | 320 |
| And, turning sudden, shun the death designd. | |
| Meantime, the King, Eumæus, and the rest, | |
| Sate in the cottage, at their rural feast: | |
| The banquet passd, and satiate evry man, | |
| To try his host, Ulysses thus began: | 325 |
| Yet one night more, my friends, indulge your guest; | |
| The last I purpose in your walls to rest; | |
| To-morrow for myself I must provide, | |
| And only ask your counsel, and a guide; | |
| Patient to roam the street, by hunger led, | 330 |
| And bless the friendly hand that gives me bread. | |
| There in Ulysses roof I may relate | |
| Ulysses wandrings to his royal mate; | |
| Or, mingling with the suitors haughty train, | |
| Not undeserving some support obtain. | 335 |
| Hermes to me his various gifts imparts, | |
| Patron of industry and manual arts: | |
| Few can with me in dextrous works contend, | |
| The pyre to build, the stubborn oak to rend; | |
| To return the tasteful viand oer the flame; | 340 |
| Or foam the goblet with a purple stream. | |
| Such are the tasks of men of mean estate, | |
| Whom fortune dooms to serve the rich and great. | |
| Alas! (Eumæus with a sigh rejoind) | |
| How sprung a thought so monstrous in thy mind? | 345 |
| If on that godless race thou wouldst attend, | |
| Fate owes thee sure a miserable end! | |
| Their wrongs and blasphemies ascend the sky, | |
| And pull descending vengeance from on high. | |
| Not such, my friend, the servants of their feast; | 350 |
| A blooming train in rich embroidry dressd! | |
| With earths whole tribute the bright table bends, | |
| And smiling round celestial youth attends. | |
| Stay, then; no eye askance beholds thee here; | |
| Sweet is thy converse to each social ear: | 355 |
| Well pleasd, and pleasing, in our cottage rest, | |
| Till good Telemachus accepts his guest | |
| With genial gifts, and change of fair attires, | |
| And safe conveys thee where thy soul desires. | |
| To him the man of woes: O gracious Jove | 360 |
| Reward this strangers hospitable love! | |
| Who knows the son of sorrow to relieve, | |
| Cheers the sad heart, nor lets affliction grieve. | |
| Of all the ills unhappy mortals know, | |
| A life of wandrings is the greatest woe: | 365 |
| On all their weary ways wait Care and Pain, | |
| And Pine and Penury, a meagre train. | |
| To such a man since harbour you afford, | |
| Relate the farther fortunes of your lord; | |
| What cares his mothers tender breast engage, | 370 |
| And sire forsaken on the verge of age; | |
| Beneath the sun prolong they yet their breath, | |
| Or range the house of darkness and of death? | |
| To whom the swain: Attend what you inquire; | |
| Laërtes lives, the miserable sire; | 375 |
| Lives, but implores of evry Power to lay | |
| The burden down, and wishes for the day. | |
| Torn from his offspring in the eve of life, | |
| Torn from th embraces of his tender wife, | |
| Sole, and all comfortless, he wastes away | 380 |
| Old age, untimely posting ere his day. | |
| She too, sad mother! for Ulysses lost | |
| Pined out her bloom, and vanishd to a ghost | |
| (So dire a fate, ye righteous Gods! avert | |
| From evry friendly, evry feeling heart); | 385 |
| While yet she was, tho clouded oer with grief, | |
| Her pleasing converse ministerd relief: | |
| With Ctimene, her youngest daughter, bred, | |
| One roof containd us, and one table fed. | |
| But when the softly-stealing pace of time | 390 |
| Crept on from childhood into youthful prime, | |
| To Samos isle she sent the wedded fair; | |
| Me to the fields, to tend the rural care; | |
| Arrayd in garments her own hands had wove, | |
| Nor less the darling object of her love. | 395 |
| Her hapless death my brighter days oercast, | |
| Yet Providence deserts me not at last: | |
| My present labours food and drink procure, | |
| And more, the pleasure to relieve the poor. | |
| Small is the comfort from the Queen to hear | 400 |
| Unwelcome news, or vex the royal ear; | |
| Blank and discontenancd the servants stand, | |
| Nor dare to question where the proud command: | |
| No profit springs beneath usurping powers; | |
| Want feeds not there, where Luxury devours, | 405 |
| Nor harbours charity where riot reigns: | |
| Proud are the Lords, and wretched are the Swains. | |
| The suffring Chief at this began to melt; | |
| And, O Eumæus! thou (he cries) hast felt | |
| The spite of Fortune too! her cruel hand | 410 |
| Snatchd the an infant from thy native land! | |
| Snatchd from thy parents arms, thy parents eyes, | |
| To early wants! a man of miseries! | |
| The whole sad story, from its first, declare: | |
| Sunk the fair city by the rage of war, | 415 |
| Where once thy parents dwelt? or did they keep, | |
| In humbler life, the lowing herds and sheep? | |
| So left perhaps to tend the fleecy train, | |
| Rude pirates seizd, and shippd thee oer the main? | |
| Doomd a fair prize to grace some Princes board, | 420 |
| The worthy purchase of a foreign Lord. | |
| If then my fortunes can delight my friend, | |
| A story fruitful of events attend: | |
| Anothers sorrow may thy ear enjoy, | |
| And wine the lengthend intervals employ. | 425 |
| Long nights the now declining year bestows; | |
| A part we consecrate to soft repose, | |
| A part in pleasing talk we entertain; | |
| For too much rest itself becomes a pain. | |
| Let those, whom sleep invites, the call obey, | 430 |
| Their cares resuming with the dawning day: | |
| Here let us feast, and to the feast be joind | |
| Discourse, the sweeter banquet of the mind; | |
| Review the series of our lives, and taste | |
| The melancholy joy of evils passd: | 435 |
| For he who much has sufferd, much will know, | |
| And pleasd remembrance builds delight on woe. | |
| Above Ortygia lies an isle of fame, | |
| Far hence remote, and Syria is the name | |
| (There curious eyes inscribed with wonder trace | 440 |
| The suns diurnal, and his annual race); | |
| Not large, but fruitful; stored with grass, to keep | |
| The bellwing oxen and the bleating sheep; | |
| Her sloping hills the mantling vines adorn, | |
| And her rich valleys wave with golden corn. | 445 |
| No want, no famine, the glad natives know, | |
| Nor sink by sickness to the shades below; | |
| But when a length of years unnerves the strong, | |
| Apollo comes, and Cynthia comes along. | |
| They bend the silver bow with tender skill, | 450 |
| And, void of pain, the silent arrows kill. | |
| Two equal tribes this fertile land divide, | |
| Where two fair cities rise with equal pride, | |
| But both in constant peace one Prince obey, | |
| And Ctesius there, my father, holds the sway. | 455 |
| Freighted, it seems, with toys of evry sort, | |
| A ship of Sidon anchord in our port; | |
| What time it chancd the palace entertaind, | |
| Skilld in rich works, a woman of their land: | |
| This nymph, where anchord the Phnician train, | 460 |
| To wash her robes descending to the main, | |
| A smooth-tongued sailor won her to his mind | |
| (For love deceives the best of womankind). | |
| A sudden trust from sudden liking grew; | |
| She told her name, her race, and all she knew. | 465 |
| I too (she cried) from glorious Sidon came. | |
| My father Arybas, of wealthy fame; | |
| But, snatchd by pirates from my native place, | |
| The Taphians sold me to this mans embrace. | |
| Haste then (the false designing youth replied), | 470 |
| Haste to thy country; love shall be thy guide; | |
| Haste to thy fathers house, thy fathers breast, | |
| For still he lives, and lives with riches blest. | |
| Swear first (she cried), ye Sailors! to restore | |
| A wretch in safety to her native shore. | 475 |
| Swift as she askd, the read sailors swore. | |
| She then proceeds: Now let our compact made | |
| Be nor by signal nor by word betrayd, | |
| Nor near me any of your crew descried, | |
| By road frequented, or by fountain side: | 480 |
| Be silence still our guard. The Monarchs spies | |
| (For watchful age is ready to surmise) | |
| Are still at hand; and this reveald, must be | |
| Death to yourselves, eternal chains to me. | |
| Your vessel loaded, and your traffic passd, | 485 |
| Despatch a wary messenger with haste; | |
| Then gold and costly treasures will I bring, | |
| And more, the infant-offspring of the King. | |
| Him, childlike wandring forth, I ll lead away | |
| (A noble prize!) and to your ship convey. | 490 |
| Thus spoke the dame, and homeward took the road. | |
| A year they traffic, and their vessel load. | |
| Their stores complete, and ready now to weigh, | |
| A spy was sent their summons to convey: | |
| An artist to my fathers palace came, | 495 |
| With gold and amber chains, elabrate frame: | |
| Each female eye the glittring links employ; | |
| They turn, review, and cheapen evry toy. | |
| He took th occasion, as they stood intent, | |
| Gave her the sign, and to his vessel went. | 500 |
| She straight pursued, and seizd my willing arm; | |
| I followd smiling, innocent of harm. | |
| Three golden goblets in the porch she found | |
| (The guests not enterd, but the table crownd); | |
| Hid in her fraudful bosom these she bore: | 505 |
| Now set the sun, and darkend all the shore. | |
| Arriving then, where, tilting on the tides, | |
| Prepared to launch the freighted vessel rides, | |
| Abroad they heave us, mount their decks, and sweep | |
| With level oar along the glassy deep. | 510 |
| Six calmy days and six smooth nights we sail, | |
| And constant Jove supplied the gentle gale. | |
| The sevnth, the fraudful wretch (no cause descried), | |
| Touchd by Dianas vengeful arrow, died. | |
| Down droppd the caitiff-corse, a worthless load, | 515 |
| Down to the deep; there rolld, the future food | |
| Of fierce sea-wolves, and monsters of the flood. | |
| A helpless infant I remaind behind; | |
| Thence borne to Ithaca by wave and wind; | |
| Sold to Laërtes by divine command, | 520 |
| And now adopted to a foreign land. | |
| To him the King: Reciting thus thy cares, | |
| My secret soul in all thy sorrow shares; | |
| But one choice blessing (such is Joves high will) | |
| Has sweetend all thy bitter draught of ill: | 525 |
| Torn from thy country to no hapless end, | |
| The Gods have, in a master, givn a friend. | |
| Whatever frugal nature needs is thine | |
| (For she needs little), daily bread and wine. | |
| While I, so many wandrings past and woes, | 530 |
| Live but on what thy poverty bestows. | |
| So passd in pleasing dialogue away | |
| The night; then down to short repose they lay; | |
| Till radiant rose the messenger of day. | |
| While in the port of Ithaca, the band | 535 |
| Of young Telemachus approachd the land; | |
| Their sails they loosd, they lashd the mast aside, | |
| And cast their anchors, and the cables tied: | |
| Then on the breezy shore, descending, join | |
| In grateful banquet oer the rosy wine. | 540 |
| When thus the Prince: Now each his course pursue: | |
| I to the fields, and to the city you. | |
| Long absent hence, I dedicate this day | |
| My swains to visit, and the works survey. | |
| Expect me with the morn, to pay the skies | 545 |
| Our debt of safe return in feast and sacrifice. | |
| Then Theoclymenus: But who shall lend, | |
| Meantime, protection to thy stranger friend? | |
| Straight to the Queen and Palace shall I fly, | |
| Or, yet more distant, to some Lord apply? | 550 |
| The Prince returnd: Renownd in days of yore | |
| Has stood our fathers hospitable door; | |
| No other roof a stranger should receive, | |
| No other hands than ours the welcome give. | |
| But in my absence riot fills the place, | 555 |
| Nor bears the modest Queen a strangers face; | |
| From noiseful revel far remote she flies, | |
| But rarely seen, or seen with weeping eyes. | |
| Nolet Eurymachus receive my guest, | |
| Of nature courteous, and by far the best; | 560 |
| He woos the Queen with more respectful flame, | |
| And emulates her former husbands fame: | |
| With what success, t is Joves alone to know, | |
| And the hoped nuptials turn to joy or woe. | |
| Thus speaking, on the right upsoard in air | 565 |
| The hawk, Apollos swift-wingd messenger: | |
| His deathful pounces tore a trembling dove; | |
| The clotted feathers, scatterd from above, | |
| Between the hero and the vessel pour | |
| Thick plumage, mingled with a sanguine shower. | 570 |
| Th observing augur took the Prince aside, | |
| Seizd by the hand, and thus prophetic cried: | |
| Yon bird, that dexter cuts th aërial road, | |
| Rose ominous, nor flies without a God: | |
| No race but thine shall Ithaca obey; | 575 |
| To thine, for ages, Heavn decrees the sway. | |
| Succeed the omens, Gods! (the youth rejoind) | |
| Soon shall my bounties speak a grateful mind, | |
| And soon each envied happiness attend | |
| The man who calls Telemachus his friend. | 580 |
| Then to Peiræus: Thou whom time has provd | |
| A faithful servant, by thy Prince belovd! | |
| Till we returning shall our guest demand, | |
| Accept this charge with honour, at our hand. | |
| To this Peiræus: Joyful I obey, | 585 |
| Well pleasd the hospitable rites to pay. | |
| The presence of thy guest shall best reward | |
| (If long thy stay) the absence of my lord. | |
| With that, their anchors he commands to weigh, | |
| Mount the tall bark, and launch into the sea. | 590 |
| All with obedient haste forsake the shores, | |
| And, placed in order, spread their equal oars. | |
| Then from the deck the Prince his sandals takes; | |
| Poisd in his hand the pointed javlin shakes. | |
| They part; while, lessning from the heros view, | 595 |
| Swift to the town the well-rowd galley flew: | |
| The hero trod the margin of the main, | |
| And reachd the mansion of his faithful swain. | |
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