The Works of the English Poets, from Chaucer to Cowper;: Pope's Homer's ...

But inward on my soul let sorrow prey,
Your sovereign will my duty bids obey.

"Crete awes the circling waves, a fruitful soil!
And ninety cities crown the sea-born isle:
Mix'd with her genuine sons, adopted names
In various tongues avow their various claims:
Cydonians dreadful with the bended yew,
And bold Pelasgi boast a native's due:
The Dorians, plum'd amid the files of war,
Her foodful glebe with fierce Achajans share;
Cnossus, her capital of high command,
Where scepter'd Minos with impartial hand
Divided right; each ninth revolving year
By Jove receiv'd in council to confer.
His son Deucalion bore successive sway;
His son, who gave me first to view the day!
The royal bed an elder issue blest,
Idomeneus, whom Ilian fields attest

Of matchless deeds: untrain'd to martial toil
I liv'd inglorious in my native isle,
Studious of peace; and thon is my name.
Twas then to Crete that great Ulysses came;
For elemental war, and wintry Jove,
From Malea's gusty cape his navy drove
To bright Lucina's fane; the shelfy coast,
Where loud Amnisus in the deep is lost.
His vessels moor'd, (an incommodious port!)
The hero speeded to the Cnossian court:
Ardent the partner of his arms to find,
In leagues of long commutual friendship join'd.
Vain hope! ten suns had warm'd the western
strand,

Since my brave brother with his Cretan band
Had sail'd for Troy: but to the genial feast
My honour'd roof receiv'd the royal guest :
Beeves for his train the Cnossian peers assign
A public treat, with jars of generous wine.
Twelve days, while Boreas vex'd th' aërial space,
My hospitable dome he deign'd to grace:
And, when the north had ceas'd the stormy roar,
He wing'd his voyage to the Phrygian shore."
Thus the fam'd hero, perfected in wiles,
With fair similitude of truth beguiles
The queen's attentive ear: dissolv'd in woe,
From her bright eyes the tears unbounded flow,
As snows collected on the mountain freeze,
When milder regions breathe a vernal breeze,
The fleecy pile obeys the whispering gales,
Ends in a stream, and murmurs through the vales:
So, melted with the pleasing tale he told,
Down her fair cheek the copious torrent roll'd:
She to her present lord laments-him lost,
And views that object which she wants the most!
Withering at heart to see the weeping fair,
His eyes look stern, and cast a gloomy stare;
Of horn the stiff relentless balls appear,
Or globes of iron fix'd in either sphere;
Firm wisdom interdicts to softening tear,
A speechless interval of grief ensues,
Till thus the queen the tender theme renews;
"Stranger! that e'er thy hospitable roof
Ulysses grac'd, confirm by faithful proof;
Delineate to my view my warlike lord,
His form, his habit, and his train record."

O'er all his frame: illustrious on his breast
The double-clasping gold the king confest.
In the rich woof a hound, Mosaic drawn,
Bore on full-stretch, and seiz'd a dappled fawn;
Deep in the neck his fangs indent their hold;
They pant, and struggle in the moving gold.
Fine as a filmy web beneath it shone

A vest, that dazzled like a cloudless sun:
The female train who round him throng'd to gaze,
In silent wonder sigh'd unwilling praise.
A sabre, when the warrior press'd to part,
I gave, enamell'd with Vulcanian art:
A mantle purple-ting'd, and radiant vest,
Dimension'd equal to his size express'd
Affection grateful to my honour'd quest.
A favourite herald in his train I knew,
His visage solemn sad, of sable bue:
Short woolly curls o'erfleec'd his bending head,
O'er which a promontory-shoulder spread;
Eurybates in whose large soul alone
Ulysses view'd an image of his own."

His speech the tempest of her grief restor❜d,
In all he told she recogniz'd her lord,

[fate

But when the storm was spent in plenteous showers;
A pause inspiriting her languish'd powers:
"Oh! thou," she cry'd," whom first inclement
Made welcome to my hospitable gate;
With all thy wants the name of poor shall end:
Henceforth live honour'd, my domestic friend!
The vest much envy'd on your native coast,
And regal robe with figur'd gold emboss'd,
In happier hours my artful hand employ'd,
When my lov'd lord this blissful bower enjoy'd:
The fall of Troy, erroneous and forlorn
Doom'd to survive, and never to return!"

Then he, with pity touch'd: "O royal dame!
Your ever-anxious mind, and beauteous frame,
From the devouring rage of grief reclaim.
I not the fondness of your soul reprove
For such a lord! who crown'd your virgin love
With the dear blessing of a fair increase;
Himself adorn'd with more than mortal grace:
Yet while I speak, the mighty woe suspend;
Truth forms my tale; to pleasing truth attend,
The royal object of your dearest care
Breathes in no distant clime the vital air;
In rich Thesprotia, and the nearer bound
Of Thessaly, his name I heard renown'd:
Without retinue, to that friendly shore
Welcom'd with gifts of price, a sumless store!
His sacrilegious train, who dar'd to prey
On herds devoted to the god of day,
Were doom'd by Jove, and Phoebus' just decree,
To perish in the rough Trinacrian sea.
To better fate the blameless chief ordain'd,
A floating fragment of the wreck regain'd,
And rode the storm; till, by the billows tost,
He landed on the fair Phæacian coast.
That race, who emulate the life of gods,
Receive him joyous to their blest abodes:
Large gifts confer, a ready sail cominand,
To speed his voyage to the Grecian strand.
But your wise lord (in whose capacious soul
High schemes of power in just succession roll)

""Tis hard," he cries," to bring to sudden sight His Ithaca refus'd from favouring fate,

Ideas that have wing'd their distant flight;
Rare on the mind those images are trac'd,
Whose footsteps twenty winters have defac'd:
But what I can, receive. In ample mode,
A robe of military purple flow'd

Till copious wealth might guard his regal state,
Phedon the fact affirm'd, whose sovereign sway
Thesprotian tribes, a duteous race, obey:
And bade the gods this added truth attest,
(While pure libations crown'd the genial feast)

That anchor'd in his port the vessel stand,
To waft the hero to His natal land.

1 for Dulichium uirge the watery way,
But first the Ulyssean wealth survey:
So rich the value of a store so vast
Demands the pomp of centuries to waste!
The darling object of your royal love,
Was journey'd thence to Dodonean Jove;
By the sure precept of the sylvan shrine,
To form the conduct of his great design:
Irresolute of soul, his state to shrowd
In dark disguise, or come a king avow'd?

Thus lives your lord; nor longer doom'd to roam:
Soon will he grace this dear paternal dome.
By Jove, the source of good, supreme in power!
By the blest genius of this friendly bower!
I ratify my speech; before the Sun
His annual longitude of Heaven shall run ;
When the pale empress of yon starry train
In the next month renews her faded wane,
Ulysses will assert his rightful reign." [" are due,
"What thanks! what boon!" reply'd the queen,
When time shall prove the storied blessing true :
My lord's return should fate no more retard,
Envy shall sicken at thy vast reward.
But my prophetic fears, alas! presage,
The wounds of destiny's relentless rage.
I long must weep, nor will Ulysses come,
With royal gifts to send you honour'd home!—
Your other task, ye menial train, forbear:

Now wash the stranger, and the bed prepare:
With splendid palls the downy fleece adorn :
Uprising early with the purple morn,

His sinews shrunk with age, and stiff with toil,
In the warm bath foment with fragrant oil.
Then with Telemachus the social feast
Partaking free, my sole invited guest;
Whoe'er neglects to pay distinction due,
The breach of hospitable right may rue.
The vulgar of my sex I most exceed

In real fame, when most humane my deed:
And vainly to the praise of queen aspire,
lf, stranger! I permit that mean attire,
Beneath the feastful bower. A narrow space
Confines the circle of our destin'd race;
'Tis ours with good the scanty round to grace.
Those who to cruel wrong their state abuse,
Dreaded in life the mutter'd curse pursues ;
By death disrob'd of all their savage powers,
Then licens'd rage her hateful prey devours.
But he whose inborn worth his acts commend,
Of gentle soul, to human race a friend;
The wretched he relieves diffuse his fame,
And distant tongues extol the patron name."
"Princess," he cry'd," in vain your bounties
On me, confirm'd and obstinate in woe. [flow
When my lov'd Crete receiv'd my final view,
And from my weeping eyes her cliffs withdrew;
The tatter'd weeds (my decent robe resign'd)
I chose the livery of a woeful mind!
Nor will my heart-corroding cares abate
With splendid palls, and canopies of state:
Low-couch'd on earth, the gift of sleep I scorn,
And catch the glances of the waking morn.
The delicacy of your courtly train

To wash a wretched wanderer would disdain ;
But if, in track of long experience try'd,
And sad similitude of woes ally'd,
Some wretch reluctant views aërial light,
To her mean band assign the friendly rite."

Pleas'd with his wise reply, the queen rejoin'd:
"Such gentle manners, and so sage a mind,
In all who grac'd this hospitable bower
I ne'er discern'd, before this social hour.
Such servant as your humble choice requires,
To light receiv'd the lord of my desires,
New from the birth: and with a mother's hand
His tender bloom to manly growth sustain'd
Of matchless prudence, and a duteous mind;
Though now to life's extremest verge declin'd
Of strength superior to the toil assign'd.—
Rise, Euryclea! with officious care
For the poor friend the cleansing bath prepare:
This debt his correspondent fortunes claim,
Too like Ulysses, and perhaps the same!
Thus, old with woes, my fancy paints him now;
For age untimely marks the careful brow !"

Instant, obsequious to the mild command,
Sad Euryclea rose: with trembling hand
She veils the torrent of her tearful eyes;
And thus impassion'd to herself replies:

"Son of my love, and monarch of my cares;
What pangs for thee this wretched bosom bears!
Are thus by Jove who constant beg his aid
With pious deed and pure devotion paid?
He never dar'd defraud the sacred fane,
Of perfect hecatombs in order slain :
There oft implor'd his tutelary power,
Long to protract the sad sepulchral hour;
That, form'd for empire with paternal care,
His realm might recognize an equal heir.
Oh destin'd head! The pious vows are lost;
His god forgets him on a foreign coast!—
Perhaps, like thee, poor guest! in wanton pride
The rich insult him, and the young deride!
Conscious of worth revil'd, thy generous mind
The friendly rite of purity declin'd;

My will concurring with my queen's command,
Accept the bath from this obsequious hand.
A strong emotion shakes my anguish'd breast;
In thy whole form Ulysses seems express'd:
Of all the wretched harbour'd on our coast,
None imag'd e'er like thee my master lost."

Thus half discover'd through the dark disguise,
With cold composure feign'd, the chief replies:
"You join your suffrage to the public vote;
The same you think, have all beholders thought."

He said. Replenish'd from the purest springs,
The laver straight with busy care she brings:
In the deep vase, that shone like burnish'd gold,
The boiling fluid temperates the cold.
Meantime revolving in his thoughtful mind
The scar with which his manly knee was sign'd;
His face averting from the crackling blaze,
His shoulders intercept th' unfriendly rays:
Thus cautious in the obscure he hop'd to fly
The curious search of Euryclea's eye.
Cautious in vain! nor ceas'd the dame to find
The scar, with which his manly knee was sign'd,
This on Parnassus (combating the boar)
With glancing rage the tusky savage tore.
Attended by his brave maternal race,
His grandsire sent him to the sylvan chase,
Autolycus the bold (a mighty name

For spotless faith and deeds of martial fame;
Hermes, his patron-god, those gifts bestow'd,
Whose shrine with weanling lambs he wont to

load.)

His course to Ithaca this hero sped,

When the first product of Laertes' bed

Then thus the hoary chief: "My victor arms
Have aw'd the realms around with dire alarms;
A sure memorial of my dreaded fame
The boy shall bear; Ulysses be his name!
And when with filial love the youth shall come
To view his mother's soil, my Delphic dome
With gifts of price shall send him joyous home."
Lur'd with the promis'd boon, when youthful prime
Ended in man, his mother's natal clime
Ulysses sought; with fond affection dear
Amphithea's arms receiv'd the royal heir.
Her ancient lord' an equal joy possest;
Instant he bade prepare the genial feast:
A steer to form the sumptuous banquet bled,
Whose stately growth five flowery summers fed:
His sons divide, and roast with artful care
The limbs; then all the tasteful viands share.
Nor ceas'd discourse (the banquet of the soul)
Till Phoebus, wheeling to the western goal,
Resign'd the skies, and night involv'd the pole.
Their drooping eyes the slumberous shade op-
Sated they rose, and all retir'd to rest. [press'd,

Soon as the Morn, new rob'd in purple light,
Pierc'd with her golden shafts the rear of night;
Ulysses and his brave maternal race,
The young Autolyci, assay the chase.
Parnassus, thick perplex'd with horrid shades,
With deepmouth'd hounds the hunter troop in-
vades :

What time the Sun, from ocean's peaceful stream,
Darts o'er the lawn his horizontal beam.
The pack impatient snuff the tainted gale;
The thorny wiles the woodmen fierce assail:
And, foremost of the train, his cornel spear
Ulysses wav'd, to rouse the savage war.
Deep in the rough recesses of the wood,
A lofty copse, the growth of ages, stood:
Nor winter's boreal blast, nor thunderous shower,
Nor solar ray, could pierce the shady bower,
With wither'd foliage strew'd, a heapy store!
The warm pavilion of a dreadful boar.
Rous'd by the hounds' and hunters' mingling cries,
The savage from his leafy shelter flies:
With fiery glare his sanguine eyeballs shine,
And bristles high impale his horrid chine.
Young Ithacus advanc'd, defies the foe,
Poising his lifted lance in act to throw;
The savage renders vain the wound decreed,
And springs impetuous with opponent speed:
His tusks oblique he aim'd, the knee to gore;
Aslope they glanc'd, the sinewy fibres tore,
And bar'd the bone: Ulysses undismay'd,
Soon with redoubled force the wound repay'd;
To the right shoulder joint the spear apply'd:
His further flank the streaming purple dy'd:
On earth he rush'd with agonizing pain;
With joy, and vast surprise, th' applauding train
View'd his enormous bulk extended on the plain.
With bandage firm Ulysses' knee they bound;
Then, chanting mystic lays, the closing wound
Of sacred melody confess'd the force;
The tides of life regain their azure course,

1 Autolycus.

Then back they led the youth with loud acclaim;
Autolycus, enamour'd with his fame,
Confirm'd the cure; and from the Delphic dome
With added gifts return'd him glorious home.
He safe at Ithaca with joy receiv'd,
Relates the chase, and early praise achiev❜d.

Deep o'er his knee, inseam'd, remain'd the scar?
Which noted token of the woodland war
When Euryclea found, th' ablution ceas'd;
Down dropp'd the leg, from her slack hand re-
The mingled fluids from the vase redound; [leas'd;
The vase reclining floats the floor around!
Smiles dew'd with tears the pleasing strife express'd
Of grief and joy, alternate in her breast.
Her fluttering words in melting murmurs died;
At length, abrupt-" My son! my king!"-she
cried.

His neck with fond embrace infolding fast,
Full on the queen her raptur'd eye she cast,
Ardent to speak the monarch safe restored:
But studious to conceal her royal lord,
Minerva fix'd her mind on views remote,
And from the present bliss abstracts her thought.
His hand to Euryclea's mouth applied,

"Art thou foredoom'd my pest?" the hero cried :

Thy milky founts my infant lips have drain'd; And have the fates thy babbling age ordain'd To violate the life thy youth sustain'd? An exile have I told, with weeping eyes, Full twenty annual suns in distant skies: At length return'd, some god inspires thy breast To know thy king, and here I stand confess'd. This heaven-discover'd truth to thee consign'd, Reserve the treasure of thy inmost mind: Else, if the gods my vengeful arm sustain, And prostrate to my sword the suitor train: With their lewd mates, thy undistinguish'd age Shall bleed a victim to vindictive rage."

Then thus rejoin'd the dame, devoid of fear: "What words, my son, have pass'd thy lips

severe !

Deep in my soul the trust shall lodge secur'd;
With ribs of steel, and marble heart, immur'd.
When Heaven, auspicious to thy right avow'd,
Shall prostrate to thy sword the suitor crowd;
The deeds I'll blazon of the menial fair;
The lewd to death devote, the virtuous spare."
'Thy aid avails me not," the chief replied;
My own experience shall their doom decide;
A witness judge precludes a long appeal:
Suffice it thee thy monarch to conceal."

He said: obsequious, with redoubled pace, She to the fount conveys th' exhausted vase: The bath renew'd, she ends the pleasing toil With plenteous unction of ambrosial oil. Adjusting to his limbs the tatter'd vest, His former seat receiv'd the stranger guest; Whom thus, with pensive air, the queen address'd: "Though night, dissolving grief in grateful ease, Your drooping eyes with soft oppression seize: Awhile, reluctant to her pleasing force, Suspend the restful hour with sweet discourse. The day (ne'er brighten'd with a beam of joy !) My menials and domestic cares, employ: And unattended by sincere repose, The night assists my ever wakeful woes: When Nature's hush'd beneath her brooding shade, My echoing griefs the starry vault invade. As, when the months are clad in flowery grees, Sad Philomel in bowery shades unseen,

My mind, reflective, in a thorny maze
Devious from care to care incessant strays.
Now, wavering doubt succeeds to long despair!
Shall I my virgin nuptial vow revere;
And, joining to my son's my menial train,
Partake his councils, and assist his reign!
Or, since, mature in manhood, he deplores
His dome dishonour'd, and exhausted stores;
Shall I, reluctant, to his will accord;
And from the peers select the noblest lord?
So by my choice avow'd, at length decide
These wasteful love-debates, a mourning bride!
A visionary thought I'll now relate;
Illustrate, if you know, the shadow'd fate:
"A team of twenty geese (a snow-white train!)
Fed near the limpid lake with golden grain,
Amuse my pensive hours. The bird of Jove
Fierce from his mountain eyrie downward drove :
Each favourite fowl he pounc'd with deathful sway,
And back triumphant wing'd his airy way.
My pitying eyes effus'd a plenteous stream,
To view their death thus imag'd in a dream:
With tender sympathy to soothe my soul,
A troop of matrons, fancy-form'd, condole.
But whilst with grief and rage my bosom burn'd,
Sudden the tyrant of the skies return'd:
Perch'd on the battlements, he thus began:
(In form an eagle, but in voice a man.)
O queen! no vulgar vision of the sky
I come, prophetic of approaching joy!
View in this plumy form thy victor lord;
The geese (a glutton race) by thee deplor'd,
Portend the suitors fated to my sword.'
This said, the pleasing feather'd omen ceas'd.
When, from the downy bands of sleep releas'd,
Fast by the limpid lake my swanlike train
I found, insatiate of the golden grain."

"The vision self-explain'd" (the chief replies)
"Sincere reveals the sanction of the skies:
Ulysses speaks his own return decreed;
And by his sword the suitors sure to bleed."
"Hard is the task, and rare," the queen re-
Impending destinies in dreams to find: [join'd,
Immur'd within the silent bower of sleep,
Two portals firm the various phantoms keep:
Of ivory one; whence flit, to mock the brain,
Of winged lies a light fantastic train:
The gates oppos'd pellucid valves adorn,
And columns fair incas'd with polish'd horn:
Where images of truth for passage wait,
With visions manifest of future fate.

Not to this troop, I fear, that phantom soar'd,
Which spoke Ulysses to his realm restor❜d :
Delusive semblance !-but my remnant life
Heaven shall determine in a gameful strife:
With that fam'd bow Ulysses taught to bend,
For me the rival archers shall contend.
As on the listed field he us'd to place
Six beams, oppos'd to fix in equal space:
Elanc'd afar by his unerring art,

Sure through six circlets flew the whizzing dart.
So, when the Sun restores the purple day,
Their strength and skill the suitors shall assay :

powers

To him the spousal honour is decreed,
Who through the rings directs the feather'd reed.
Torn from these walls (where long the kinder
[hours!)
With pomp and joy have wing'd my youthful
On this poor breast no dawn of bliss shall beam;
The pleasure past supplies a copious theme
For many a dreary thought, and many a doleful
dream."

"Propose the sportive lot" (the chief replies) "Nor dread to name yourself the bowyer's prize: Ulysses will surprise th' unfinish'd game Avow'd, and falsify the suitors' claim."

To whom, with grace serene, the queen rejoin'd: "In all thy speech, what pleasing force I find! O'er my suspended woe thy words prevail,

I part reluctant from the pleasing tale.

But Heaven, that knows what all terrestrials need,
Repose to night, and toil to day decreed:
Grateful vicissitude! yet me withdrawn,
Wakeful to weep and watch the tardy dawn
Establish'd use enjoins; to rest and joy
Estrang'd, since dear Ulysses sail'd to Troy !
Meantime instructed is the menial tribe
Your couch to fashion as yourself prescribe."

Thus affable, her bower the queen ascends; The sovereign step a beauteous train attends; There imag'd to her soul Ulysses rose ; Down her pale cheek new streaming sorrow flows Till soft oblivious shade Minerva spread, And o'er her eyes amorosial slumber shed.

THE ODYSSEY.

BOOK XX.

ARGUMENT.

WHILE Ulysses lies in the vestibule of the palace, he is witness to the disorders of the women. Minerva comforts him, and casts him asleep. At his waking he desires a favourable sign from Jupiter, which is granted. The feast of Apollo is celebrated by the people, and the suitors banquet in the palace. Telemachus exerts his authority amongst them, notwithstanding which, Ulysses is insulted by Ctesippus, and the rest continue in their excesses. Strange prodigies arc seen by Theoclymenus the augur, who explains them to the destruction of the wooers.

An ample hide divine Ulysses spread,
And form'd of fleecy skins his humble bed
(The remnants of the spoil the suitor crowd
In festival devour'd, and victims vow'd).
Then o'er the chief, Eurynomè the chaste,
With duteous care, a downy carpet cast:
With dire revenge his thoughtful bosom glows,
And, ruminating wrath, he scerns repose.

As thus pavilion'd in the porch he lay
Scenes of lewd loves his wakeful eyes survey;
Whilst to nocturnal joys impure repair,
With wanton glee, the prostituted fair.
His heart with rage this new dishonour stung,
Wavering his thought in dubious balance hung!

Or, instant should he quench the guilty flame
With their own blood, and intercept the shame;
Or to their lust indulge a last embrace,
And let the peers consummate the disgrace;
Round his swoln heart the murmurous fury rolls;
As o'er her young the mother mastiff growls,
And bays the stranger groom: so wrath compress'd,
Recoiling, mutter'd thunder in his breast.
"Poor suttering heart!" he cried, "support the pain
Of wounded honour, and thy rage restrain.
Not fiercer woes thy fortitude could foil,
When the brave partners of thy ten years' toil
Dire Polypheme devour'd: I then was freed,
By patient prudence from the death decreed."
Thus anchor'd safe on reason's peaceful coast
Tempests of wrath his soul no longer toss'd;
Restless his body roll'd, to rage resign'd:
As one who long with pale-ey'd famine pin'd,
The savory cates on glowing embers cast
Incessant turns, impatient for repast;
Ulysses so, from side to side devolv'd,
In self-debate the suitors' doom resolv'd.
When, in the form of mortal nymph array'd,
From Heaven descends the Jove-born martial maid;
And hovering o'er his head in view confess'd,
The goddess thus her favourite care address'd:
"O thou, of mortals most inur'd to woes!
Why roll those eyes unfriended of repose?
Beneath thy palace-roof forget thy care;
Bless'd in thy queen! bless'd in thy blooming heir!
Whom, to the gods when suppliant fathers bow,
They name the standard of their dearest vow.
"Just is thy kind reproach," (the chief rejoin'd);
"Deeds full of fate distract my various mind
In contemplation wrapp'd. This hostile crew
What single arm hath prowess to subdue?
Or if, by Jove's and thy auxiliar aid,
They're doom'd to bleed; Oh! say celestial maid:
Where shall Ulysses shun, or how sustain,
Nations embattled to revenge the slain ?"

"Oh, impotence of faith!" Minerva cries, "If man on frail unknowing man relies, Doubt you the gods? Lo! Pallas' self descends, Inspires thy counsels, and thy toils attends. In ine affianc'd, fortify thy breast,

Though myriads leagued thy rightful claim con

test:

My sure divinity shall bear the shield,

And edge thy sword to reap the glorious field.
Now pay the debt to craving nature due,
Her faded powers with balmy rest renew.'
She ceas'd. Ambrosial slumbers seal his eyes;
His care dissolves in visionary joys:
The goddess, pleas'd, regains her natal skies.
Not so the queen: the downy bands of sleep
By grief relax'd, she wak'd again to weep:
A gloomy pause ensued of dumb despair:
Then thus her fate invok'd, with fervent prayer:
"Diana! speed thy deathful ebon dart,
And cure the pangs of this convulsive heart.
Snatch me, ye whirlwinds! far from human race,
Toss'd through the void illimitable space:
Or, if dismounted from the rapid cloud,
Me with his whelming wave let Ocean shroud!
So, Pandarus, thy hopes, three orphan fair,
Were doom'd to wander through the devious air;
Thyself untimely and thy consort dy'd,

But four celestials both your cares supply'd.
Venus in tender delicacy rears

With honey, milk, and wine, their infant years:

Imperial Juno to their youth assign'd
A form majestic, and sagacious mind:
With shapely growth Diana grac'd the bloom;
And Pallas taught the texture of the loom.
But whilst, to learn their lots in nuptial love,
Bright Cytherea sought the bower of Jove
(The god supreme, to whose eternal eye
The registers of fate expanded lie ;)
Wing'd harpies snatch'd th' unguarded charge
And to the Furies bore a greatful prey. [away
Be such my lot! Or thou, Diana, speed
Thy shaft, and send me joyful to the dead;
To seek my lord among the warrior train,
Ere second vows my bridal faith profane.
When woes the waking sense alone assail;
Whilst night extends her soft oblivious veil,
Of other wretches' care the torture ends;
No truce the warfare of my heart suspends !
The night renews the day distracting theme,
And airy terrours sable every dream.
The last alone a kind illusion wrought,
And to my bed my lov'd Ulysses brought
In manly bloom, and each majestic grace,
As when for Troy he left my fond embrace;
Such raptures in my beating bosom rise,

I deem it sure a vision of the skies."
Thus, whilst Aurora mounts her purple throne,
In audible laments she breathes her moan;
The sounds assault Ulysses' wakeful ear:
Misjudging of the cause, a sudden fear
Of his arrival known, the chief alarms;
He thinks the queen is rushing to his arms.
Upspringing from his couch, with active haste
The fleece and carpet in the dome he plac'd
(The hide, without, imbib'd the morning air;)
And thus the gods invok'd with ardent prayer:
"Jove, and ethereal thrones! with Heaven to
friend,

If the long series of my woes shall end,
Of human race now rising from repose
Let one a blissful omen here disclose:
And, to confirm my faith, propitious Jove,
Vouchsafe the sanction of a sign above!"

Whilst lowly thus the chief adoring bows,
The pitying god his guardian aid avows.
Loud from a sapphire sky his thunder sounds:
With springing hope the hero's heart resounds.
Soon, with consummate joy to crown his prayer,
An omen'd voice invades his ravish'd ear.
Beneath a pile, that close the dome adjoin'd,
Twelve female slaves the gift of Ceres grind;
Task'd for the royal board to bolt the bran
From the pure flour (the growth and strength of
Discharging to the day the labour due,
Now early to repose the rest withdrew;
One maid, unequal to the task assign'd,
Still turn'd the toilsome mill with anxious mind;
And thus in bitterness of soul divin'd :

(man),

"Father of gods and men, whose thunders roll O'er the cerulean vault, and shake the pole; Whoe'er from Heaven has gain'd this rare ostent (Of granted vows a certain signal sent) In this blest moment of accepted prayer, Piteous, regard a wretch consum'd with care! Instant, O Jove! confound the suitor train, For whom o'ertoil'd I grind the golden grain: Far from this dome the lewd devourers cast, And be this festival decreed their last!"

Big with their doom denounc'd in Earth and sky, Ulysses' heart dilates with secret juy.

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