But when their texture to the tempest yields,
I launch adventurous on the liquid fields,
Join to the help of gods the strength of man,
And take this method, since the best I can."
While thus his thoughts an anxious council hold,
The raging god a watery mountain roll'd;
465
Like a black sheet the whelming billows spread,
Burst o'er the float, and thunder'd on his head.
Planks, beams, disparted fly; the scatter'd wood
Rolls diverse, and in fragments strews the flood.
So the rude Boreas, o'er the field new shorn,
Tosses and drives the scatter'd heaps of corn.
And now a single beam the chief bestrides ;
There poised a while above the bounding tides,
His limbs discumbers of the clinging vest,
And binds the sacred cincture round his breast: 475 Then prone on ocean in a moment flung,
Stretch'd wide his eager arms, and shot the seas along.
All naked now, on heaving billows laid,
Stern Neptune eyed him, and contemptuous said: "Go, learn'd in woes, and other foes essay! 480 Go, wander helpless on the watery way: Thus, thus find out the destined shore, and then (If Jove ordains it) mix with happier men. Whate'er thy fate, the ills our wrath could raise Shall last remember'd in thy best of days."
This said, his sea-green steeds divide the foam, And reach high Ægæ and the towery dome. Now, scarce withdrawn the fierce earth-shaking
Jove's daughter Pallas watch'd the favouring hour.
Back to their caves she bade the winds to fly,
And hush'd the blustering brethren of the sky.
The drier blasts alone of Boreas sway,
And bear him soft on broken waves away;
With gentle force impelling to that shore,
Where fate has destined he shall toil no more.
And now two nights, and now two days were pass'd,
Since wide he wander'd on the watery waste;
Heaved on the surge with intermitting breath,
And hourly panting in the arms of death.
The third fair morn now blazed upon the main; 500
Then glassy smooth lay all the liquid plain;
The winds were hush'd, the billows scarcely curl'd,
And a dead silence still'd the watery world;
When lifted on a ridgy wave he spies
The land at distance, and with sharpen'd eyes. 505
As pious children joy with vast delight
When a loved sire revives before their sight;
(Who, lingering long, has call'd on death in vain,
Fix'd by some demon to his bed of pain,
Till Heaven by miracle his life restore ;)
So joys Ulysses at the appearing shore;
And sees (and labours onward as he sees)
The rising forests and the tufted trees.
And now, as near approaching as the sound
Of human voice the listening ear may wound,
Amid the rocks he heard a hollow roar
Of murmuring surges breaking on the shore:
Nor peaceful port was there, nòr winding bay,
To shield the vessel from the rolling sea,
But cliffs and shaggy shores, a dreadful sight!
All rough with rocks, with foamy billows white.
Fear seized his slacken'd limbs and beating heart,
As thus he communed with his soul apart :
"Ah me! when o'er a length of waters toss'd, These eyes at last behold the unhoped-for coast, 525 No port receives me from the angry main, But the loud deeps demand me back again. 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. If here I enter, my efforts are vain,
Dash'd on the cliffs, or heaved into the main;
Or round the island if my course I bend,
Where the ports open, or the shores descend,
Back to the seas the rolling surge may sweep,
And bury all my hopes beneath the deep.
Or some enormous whale the god may send;
(For many such on Amphitrite attend ;)
Too well the turns of mortal chance I know,
And hate relentless of my heavenly foe."
While thus he thought, a monstrous wave upbore
The chief, and dash'd him on the craggy shore;
Torn was his skin, nor had the ribs been whole,
But instant Pallas enter'd in his soul.
Close to the cliff with both his hands he clung,
And stuck adherent, and suspended hung,
Till the huge surge roll'd of; then, backward sweep
The refluent tides, and plunge him in the deep.
As when the polypus, from forth his cave
Torn with full force, reluctant beats the wave,
His ragged claws are stuck with stones and sands;
So the rough rock had shagg'd Ulysses' hands,
And now had perish'd, whelm'd beneath the main,
The unhappy man; ev'n fate had been in vain : 555
But all-subduing Pallas lent her power,
And prudence saved him in the needful hour.
Beyond the beating surge his course he bore,
(A wider circle, but in sight of shore,)
With longing eyes, observing, to survey
Some smooth ascent, or safe sequester'd bay.
Between the parting rocks at length he spied
A falling stream with gentler waters glide;
Where to the seas the shelving shore declined,
And form'd a bay impervious to the wind.
To this calm port the glad Ulysses press'd,
And hail'd the river, and its god address'd:
"Whoe'er thou art, before whose stream unknown I bend, a suppliant at thy watery throne, Hear, azure king! nor let me fly in vain To thee from Neptune and the raging main.
Heaven hears and pities hapless men like me,
For sacred ev'n to gods is misery :
Let then thy waters give the weary rest,
And save a suppliant, and a man distress'd."
He pray'd, and straight the gentle stream subsides,
Detains the rushing current of his tides,
Before the wanderer smooths the watery way,
And soft receives him from the rolling sea.
That moment fainting as he touch'd the shore, 580
He dropp'd his sinewy arms: his knees no more
Perform❜d their office, or his weight upheld:
His swoln heart heaved; his bloated body swell'd:
From mouth and nose the briny torrent ran;
And lost in lassitude lay all the man,
Deprived of voice, of motion, and of breath;
The soul scarce waking in the arms of death.
Soon as warm life its wonted office found,
The mindful chief Leucothea's scarf unbound;
Observant of her word, he turn'd aside
His head, and cast it on the rolling tide.
Behind him far, upon the purple waves
The waters waft it, and the nymph receives.
Now parting from the stream, Ulysses found
A mossy bank with pliant rushes crown'd;
The bank he press'd, and gently kiss'd the ground:
Where on the flowery herb as soft he lay,
Thus to his soul the sage began to say:
"What will ye next ordain, ye powers on high? And yet, ah yet, what fates are we to try? Here by the stream, if I the night outwear, Thus spent already, how shall nature bear The dews descending, and nocturnal air; Or chilly vapours breathing from the flood When morning rises? If I take the wood, And in thick shelter of innumerous boughs Enjoy the comfort gentle sleep allows; Though fenced from cold, and though my toil be pass'd,
What savage beasts may wander in the waste!
Perhaps I yet may fall a bloody prey
To prowling beasts or lions in the way."
Thus long debating in himself he stood: At length he took the passage to the wood, Whose shady horrors on a rising brow Waved high, and frown'd upon the stream below. There grew two olives, closest of the grove, With roots entwined, and branches interwove; Alike their leaves, but not alike they smiled With sister fruits; one fertile, one was wild. Nor here the sun's meridian rays had power, Nor wind sharp piercing, nor the rushing shower; The verdant arch so close its texture kept: Beneath this covert great Ulysses crept. Of gather'd leaves an ample bed he made;
(Thick strewn by tempest through the bowery
Where three at least might winter's cold defy,
Though Boreas raged along the inclement sky.
This store with joy the patient hero found,
And, sunk amid them, heap'd the leaves around.
As some poor peasant, fated to reside
Remote from neighbours in a forest wide,
Studious to save what human wants require,
In embers heap'd, preserves the seeds of fire:
Hid in dry foliage thus Ulysses lies,
Till Pallas pour'd soft slumbers on his eyes;
And golden dreams (the gift of sweet repose)
Lull'd all his cares, and banish'd all his woes,
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