When all was wild expanse of sea and air;
Then doom'd high Jove due vengeance to prepare.
He hung a night of horrors o'er their head,
(The shaded ocean blacken'd as it spread)
He launch'd the fiery bolt; from pole to pole
Broad burst the lightnings, deep the thunders roll;
In giddy rounds the whirling ship is toss'd,
And all in clouds of smothering sulphur lost.
As from a hanging rock's tremendous height,
The sable crows with intercepted flight
Drop endlong; scarr'd, and black with sulphurous hue,
So from the deck are hurl'd the ghastly crew.
Such end the wicked found! But Jove's intent
Was yet to save th' oppress'd and innocent.
Plac'd on the mast (the last recourse of life)
With winds and waves I held unequal strife;
For nine long days the billows tilting o'er,
The tenth soft wafts me to Thesprotia's shore.
The monarch's son a shipwreck'd wretch reliev'd,
The sire with hospitable rites receiv'd,
And in his palace, like a brother plac'd,
With gifts of price and gorgeous garments grac❜d.
While here I sojourn'd, oft I heard the fame
How late Ulysses to the country came;
How lov'd, how honour'd in his court he staid,
And here his whole collected treasure laid;
I saw myself the vast unnumber'd store
Of steel elaborate, and refulgent ore,
And brass high heap'd amidst the regal dome;
Immense supplies for ages yet to come!
Meantime he voyag'd to explore the will
Of Jove, on high Dodona's holy hill,
What means might best his safe return avail,
To come in pomp, or bear a secret sail?
Full oft has Phidon, whilst he pour'd the wine
Attesting solemn all the powers divine,
That soon Ulysses would return, declar'd,
The sailors waiting, and the ships prepar'd,
But first the king dismiss'd me from his shores,
For fair Dulichium crown'd with fruitful stores;
To good Acastus' friendly care consign'd:
But other counsels pleas'd the sailor's mind:
New frauds were plotted by the faithless train,
And misery demands me once again.
Soon as remote from shore they plough the wave,
With ready hands they rush to seize their slave;
Then with these tatter'd rags they wrapt me round,
(Stript of my own) and to the vessel bound.
At eve, at Ithaca's delightful land.
The ship arriv'd: forth issuing on the sand,
They sought repast; while to th' unhappy kind,
The pitying gods themselves my chain unbind.
Soft I descended, to the sea applied.
My naked breast, and shot along the tide.
Soon past beyond their sight, I left the flood,
And took the spreading shelter of the wood.
Their prize escap'd, the faithless pirates mourn'd;
But deem'd inquiry vain, and to their ship re-
turn'd.
Screen'd by protecting gods from hostile eyes,
They led me to a good man and a wise;
To live beneath thy hospitable care,
And wait the woes heaven dooms me yet to bear.
Unhappy guest! whose sorrows touch my mind !
(Thus good Eumæus with a sigh rejoin'd)
For real sufferings since I grieve sincere,
Check not with fallacies the springing tear;
Nor turn the passion into groundless joy
For him whom heaven has destin'd to destroy.
O! had he perish'd on some well-fought day,
Or in his friend's embraces died away!
That grateful Greece with streaming eyes might
Historic marbles, to record his praise.
His praise, eternal on the faithful stone,
Had with transmissive honours grac'd his son.
Now snatch'd by harpies to the dreary coast,
Sunk is the hero, and his glory lost!
While pensive in this solitary den,
Far from gay cities, and the ways of
I linger life; nor to the court repair,
But when the constant queen commands my care;
Or when, to taste her hospitable board,
Some guest arrives, with rumours of her lord;
And these indulge their want, and those their woe,
And here the tears, and there the goblets flow.
By many such have I been warn'd; but chief
By one Ætolian robb'd of all belief,
Whose hap it was to this our roof to roam,
For murder banish'd from his native home.
He swore, Ulysses on the coast of Crete
Staid but a season to refit his fleet:
A few revolving months should waft him o'er,
Fraught with bold warriors, and a boundless store.
O thou! whom age has taught to understand,
And heaven has guided with a favouring hand!
On god or mortal to obtrude a lie
Forbear, and dread to flatter, as to die.
Not for such ends my house and heart are free,
But dear respect to Jove, and charity.
And why, O swain of unbelieving mind!
(Thus quick replied the wisest of mankind)
Doubt you my oath? yet more my faith to try,
A solemn compact let us ratify,
And witness every power that rules the sky!
If here Ulysses from his labours rest,
Be then my prize a tunic and a vest;
And, where my hopes invite me, straight transport
In safety to Dulichium's friendly court.
But if he greets not thy desiring eye,
Hurl me from yon dread precipice on high;
The due reward of fraud and perjury.
Doubtless, O guest! great laud and praise were mine,
(Replied the swain for spotless faith divine)
If, after social rites and gifts bestow'd,
I stain'd my hospitable hearth with blood,
How would the gods, my righteous toils succeed,
And bless the hand that made a stranger bleed?
No more-th' approaching hours of silent night
First claim refection, then to rest invite;
Beneath our humble cottage let us haste,
And here, unenvy'd, rural dainties taste.
Thus commun'd these; while to their lowly dome
The full-fed swine return'd with evening home;
Compell'd, reluctant, to their several sties,
With din obstreperous, and ungrateful cries.
Then to the slaves-Now from the herd the best
Select, in honour of our foreign guest:
With him, let us the genial banquet share,
For great and many are the griefs we bear;
While those who from our labours heap their
board,
Blaspheme their feeder, and forget their lord.
Thus speaking, with despatchful hand he took
A weighty axe, and cleft the solid oak;
This on the earth he pil'd; a boar full fed
Of five years age, before the pile was led:
The swain, whom acts of piety delight,
Observant of the Gods, begins the rite;
First shears the forehead of the bristly boar,
And suppliant stands, invoking every power
To speed Ulysses to his native shore."
A knotty stake then aiming at his dead,
Down dropp'd he groaning, and the spirit fled.
The scorching flames climb round on every side:
Then the sing'd members they with skill divide;
On these, in rolls of fat involv'd with art,
The choicest morsels lay from every part.
Some in the flames, bestrow'd with flour, they
threw;
Some cut in fragments, from the forks they drew:
These while on several tables they dispose,
As priest himself, the blameles rustic rose;
Expert the destin'd victim to dispart
In seven just portions, pure of hand and heart.
One sacred to the nymphs apart they lay,
Another to the winged son of May:
The rural tribe in common share the rest,
The king the chine, the honour of the feast,
Who sat delighted at his servant's board:
The faithful servant joy'd his unknown lord.
O be thou dear (Ulysses cried) to Jove,
As well thou claim'st a grateful stranger's love!
Be then thy thanks, (the bounteous swain re-
plied)
Enjoyment of the good the gods provide.
From god's own hand descend our joys and woes;
These he decrees, and he but suffers those:
All power is his, and whatsoe'er he wills,
The will itself, omnipotent, fulfils:
This said, the first fruits to the gods he gave;
Then pour'd of offer'd wine the sable wave:
In great Ulysses' hand he plac'd the bowl,
He sat, and sweet refection cheer'd his soul.
The bread from canisters Mesaulius gave,
(Eumæus' proper treasure bought this slave,
And led from Taphos, to attend his board,
A servant added to his absent lord)
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