Nine ells aloft they rear'd their towering head,
And full nine cubits broad their shoulders spread.
Proud of their strength, and more than mortal size,
The gods they challenge, and affect the skies:
Heaved on Olympus tottering Ossa stood;
On Ossa, Pelion nods with all his wood.
Such were thy youths! had they to manhood grown,
Almighty Jove had trembled on his throne:
But, ere the harvest of the beard began
To bristle on the chin, and promise man,
His shafts Apollo aim'd; at once they sound,
And stretch the giant monsters o'er the ground.
There mournful Phædra with sad Procris moves,
Both beauteous shades, both hapless in their loves;
And near them walk'd, with solemn pace and slow,
Sad Ariadge, partner of their woe:
The royal Minos Ariadne bred,
She Theseus loved, from Crete with Theseus fled :
Swift to the Dian isle the hero flies,
And towards his Athens bears the lovely prize;
There Bacchus with fierce rage Diana fires,
The goddess aims her shaft, the nymph expires.
There Clymene and Mera I behold,
There Eriphylè weeps, who loosely sold
Her lord, her honour, for the lust of gold.
But should I all recount, the night would fail,
Unequal to the melancholy tale;
And all-composing rest my nature craves,
Here in the court, or yonder on the waves;
In you I trust, and in the heavenly powers,
To land Ulysses on his native shores.
He ceased; but left so charming on their ear
His voice, that listening still they seem'd to hear.
Till rising up, Aretè silence broke,
O king! for such thou art, and sure thy blood 450
Through veins (he cried) of royal fathers flow'd;
Unlike those vagrants who on falsehood live,
Skill'd in smooth tales, and artful to deceive;
Thy better soul abhors the liar's part,
Wise is thy voice, and noble is thy heart.
Thy words like music every breast controul,
Steal through the ear, and win upon the soul;
Soft, as some song divine, thy story flows,
Nor better could the Muse record thy woes.
But say, upon the dark and dismal coast,
Saw'st thou the worthies of the Grecian host?
The godlike leaders who, in battle slain,
Fell before Troy, and nobly press'd the plain?
And lo! a length of night behind remains,
The evening stars still mount the ethereal plains
Thy tale with raptures I could hear thee tell,
Thy woes on earth, the wondrous scenes in hell,
Till in the vault of heaven the stars decay,
And the sky reddens with the rising day.
O worthy of the power the gods assign'd
(Ulysses thus replies) a king in mind!
Since yet the early hour of night allows
Time for discourse, and time for soft repose,
If scenes of misery can entertain,
Woes I unfold, of woes a dismal train.
Prepare to hear of murder and of blood;
410 Of godlike heroes who uninjured stood
Amidst a war of spears in foreign lands,
Yet bled at home, and bled by female hands.
Now summon'd Proserpine to hell's black hal: 430 The heroine shades; they vanish'd at her call.
When lo! advanced the forms of heroes slain By stern Egysthus, a majestic train,
And high above the rest, Atrides press'd the plaia. He quaffed the gore; and straight his soldier knew, And from his eyes pour'd down the tender dew; 420 His arms he stretched; his arms the touch deceive, Nor in the fond embrace, embraces give:
Stretch'd out her snowy hand, and thus she spoke.
What wondrous man heaven sends us in our guest!
Through all his woes the hero shines confess'd;
His comely port, his ample frame express
A manly air, majestic in distress.
He, as my guest, is my peculiar care :
You share the pleasure, then in bounty share;
To worth in misery a reverence pay,
And with a generous hand reward his stay;
For since kind heaven with wealth our realm has
bless'd,
His substance vanish'd, and his strength decay'd,
Now all Atrides is an empty shade.
Moved at the sight, I for a space resign'd
To soft affliction all my manly mind;
At last with tears-O what relentless doom,
Imperial phantom, bow'd thee to the tomb?
Say while the sea, and while the tempest raves,
Has Fate oppress'd thee in the roaring waves,
Or nobly seized thee in the dire alarms
430 Of war and slaughter, and the clash of arms!
The ghost returns: O chief of human kind
For active courage and a patient mind;
Nor while the sea, nor whilst the tempest raves,
Has Fate oppress'd me on the roaring waves'
Nor nobly seized me in the dire alarms
Of war and slaughter, and the clash of arms
Stabb'd by a murderous hand Atrides died:
A foul adulterer, and a faithless bride;
Even in my mirth, and at the friendly feast,
Give it to heaven, by aiding the distress'd.
Then sage Echeneus, whose grave reverend brow
The hand of time had silver'd o'er with snow,
Mature in wisdom rose: Your words, he cries,
Demand obedience, for your words are wise.
But let our king direct the glorious way
To generous acts: our part is to obey.
While life informs these limbs (the king replied,)
Well to deserve, be all my cares employ'd:
But here this night the royal guest detain,
Till the sun flames along the ethereal plain.
Be it my task to send with ample stores
The stranger from our hospitable shores :
Tread you my steps! 'Tis mine to lead the race, 440 O'er the full bowl, the traitor stabb'd his guest;
The first in glory, as the first in place.
Thus by the gory arm of slaughter falls
To whom the prince. This night with joy I stay: The stately ox, and bleeds within the stalls.
O monarch great in virtue as in sway!
If thou the circling year my stay controul,
To raise a bounty noble as thy soul;
The circling year I wait, with ampler stores
And fitter pomp to hail my native shores:
Then by my realms due homage would be paid;
For wealthy kings are loyally obey'd!
But not with me the direful murder ends,
These, these expired! their crime, they were my
Thick as the boars, which some luxurious lord
Kills for the feast, to crown the nuptial board.
When war has thunder'd with its loudest storms
Death thou hast seen in all her ghastly forms;
In duel met her on the listed ground,
When hand to hand they wound return for wound;
But never have thy eyes astonish'd view'd
So vile a deed, so dire a scene of blood.
Even in the flow of joy, when now the bowl
Glows in our veins, and opens every soul,
We groan, we faint; with blood the dome is dyed,
And o'er the pavement floats the dreadful tide—
Her breast all gore, with lamentable cries,
The bleeding innocent Cassandra dies!
Comest thou alive to view the Stygian bounds,
Where the wan spectres walk eternal rounds:
Nor fear'st the dark and dismal waste to tread,
520 Throng'd with pale ghosts, familiar with the dead?
To whom with sighs: I pass these dreadful gates
To seek the Theban, and consult the Fates:
For still, distress'd, I rove from coast to coast,
Lost to my friends, and to my country lost.
But sure the eye of Time beholds no name
So blest as thine in all the rolls of fame :
Alive we hail'd thee with our guardian gods,
And dead, thou rulest a king in these abodes.
Talk not of ruling in this dolorous gloom,
530 Nor think vain words (he cried) can ease my doom.
Rather I choose laboriously to bear
Then though pale death froze cold in every vein,
My sword I strive to wield, but strive in vain:
Nor did my traitress wife these eyelids close,
Or decently in death my limbs compose.
O woman, woman, when to ill thy mind
Is bent, all hell contains no fouler fiend:
And such was mine! who basely plunged her sword
Through the fond bosom where she reign'd adored!
Alas! I hoped, the toils of war o'ercome,
To meet soft quiet and repose at home:
Delusive hope! O wife, thy deeds disgrace
The perjured sex, and blacken all the race;
And should posterity one virtuous find,
Name Clytemnestra, they will curse the kind.
O injured shade, I cried, what mighty woes
To thy imperial race from woman rose!
A weight of woes, and breathe the vital air,
A slave to some poor hind that toils for bread,
Than reign the scepter'd monarch of the dead.
But say, if in my steps my son proceeds,
And emulates his godlike father's deeds?
If at the clash of arms, and shout of foes,
Swells his bold heart, his bosom nobly glows?
Say if my sire, the reverend Peleus, reigns
540 Great in his Pthia, and his throne maintains;
Or, weak and old, my youthful arm demands,
To fix the sceptre steadfast in his hands?
O might the lamp of life rekindled burn,
And death release me from the silent urn!
This arm, that thunder'd o'er the Phrygian plain,
And swell'd the ground with mountains of the slain,
Should vindicate my injured father's fame,
Crush the proud rebel, and assert his claim.
Illustrious shade (I cried,) of Peleus' fates
550 No circumstance the voice of fame relates:
But hear with pleased attention the renown,
The wars and wisdom of thy gallant son.
With me from Scyros to the field of fame
Radiant in arms the blooming hero came.
When Greece assembled all her hundred states,
By woman here thou treadst this mournful strand,
And Greece by woman lies a desert land.
Warn'd by my ills beware, the shade replies,
Nor trust the sex that is so rarely wise;
When earnest to explore thy secret breast,
Unfold some trifle, but conceal the rest.
But in thy consort cease to fear a foe,
For thee she feels sincerity of woe:
When Troy first bled beneath the Grecian arms,
She shone unrivall'd with a blaze of charms;
Thy infant son her fragrant bosom press'd,
Hung at her knee, or wanton'd at her breast:
But now the years a numerous train have ran:
The blooming boy is ripen'd into man:
Thy eyes shall see him burn with noble fire,
The sire shall bless his son, the son his sire:
But my Orestes never met these eyes,
Without one look the murder'd father dies;
Then from a wretched friend this wisdom learn,
Even to thy queen disguised, unknown, return:
For since of womankind so few are just,
Think all are false, nor even the faithful trust.
But say, resides my son in royal port,
In rich Orchomenos, or Sparta's court?
Or say in Pyle? for yet he views the light,
Nor glides a phantom through the realms of night.
Then I: Thy suit is vain, nor can I say
If yet he breathes in realms of cheerful day:
Or pale or wan beholds these nether skies:
Truth I revere, for wisdom never lies.
To ripen councils, and decide debates,
Heavens! how he charm'd us with a flow of sense,
And won the heart with manly eloquence!
He first was seen of all the peers to rise,
560 The third in wisdom where they all were wise;
But when, to try the fortune of the day,
Host moved toward host in terrible array,
Before the van, impatient for the fight,
With martial port he strode, and stern delight: 630
Heaps strew'd on heaps beneath his falchion groan'd,
And monuments of dead deform'd the ground.
The time would fail should I in order tell
What foes were vanquish'd, and what numbers fell:
How, lost through love, Eurypylus was slain,
570 And round him bled his bold Cetaan train.
To Troy no hero came of nobler line,
Or if of nobler, Memnon, it was thine.
Thus in a tide of tears our sorrows flow,
And add new horror to the realms of woe;
Till side by side along the dreary coast
Advanced Achilles' and Patroclus' ghost,
A friendly pair! near these the Pylian* stray'd,
And towering Ajax, an illustrious shade!
War was his joy, and pleased with loud alarms,
None but Pelides brighter shone in arms.
Through the thick gloom his friend Achilles knew,
And as he speaks the tears descend in dew.
When Ilion in the horse received her doom,
And unseen armies ambush'd in its womb,
Greece gave her latent warriors to my care,
'Twas mine on Troy to pour the imprison'd war;
Then when the boldest bosom beat with fear,
When the stern eyes of heroes dropp'd a tear;
Fierce in his look his ardent valour glow'd,
580 Flush'd in his cheek, or sallied in his blood;
Indignant in the dark recess he stands,
Pants for the battle, and the war demands:
His voice breathed death, and with a martial air
He grasp'd his sword, and shook his glittering spear.
And when the gods our arms with conquest crown'd, With haughty love the audacious monster strove
When Troy's proud bulwarks smoked upon the ground, To force the goddess, and to rival Jove.
Greece to reward her soldier's gallant toils,
Heap'd high his navy with unnumber'd spoils.
Thus, great in glory, from the din of war,
Safe he return'd, without one hostile scar;
Though spears in iron tempests rain'd around,
Yet innocent they play'd, and guiltless of a wound.
While yet I spoke, the shade with transport glow'd,
Rose in his majesty, and nobler trod;
With haughty stalk he sought the distant glades
Of warrior kings, and join'd the illustrious shades.
Now, without number, ghost by ghost arose,
All wailing with unutterable woes.
Alone, apart, in discontented mood,
A gloomy shade, the sullen Ajax stood;
For ever sad with proud disdain he pined,
And the lost arms for ever stung his mind;
Though to the contest Thetis gave the laws,
And Pallas, by the Trojans, judged the cause.
O why was I victorious in the strife?
O dear-bought honour with so brave a life!
With him the strength of war, the soldiers' pride,
Our second hope to great Achilles, died!
Touch'd at the sight from tears I scarce refrain,
And tender sorrow thrills in every vein;
Pensive and sad I stand, at length accost
With accents mild the inexorable ghost.
There Tantalus along the Stygian bounds
Pours out deep groans (which groans all hell re-
Even in the circling floods refreshment craves, 721
And pines with thirst amidst a sea of waves;
When to the water he his lip applies,
Back from his lip the treacherous water flies
Above, beneath, around, his hapless head,
Trees of all kinds delicious fruitage spread;
There figs sky-dyed, a purple hue disclose,
Green looks the olive, the pomegranate glows,
There dangling pears exalting scents unfold,
And yellow apples ripen into gold:
The fruit he strives to seize; but blasts arise
Toss it on high, and whirl it to the skies.
I turn'd my eye, and as I turn'd survey'd
A mournful vision! the Sisyphian shade;
670 With many a weary step, and many a groan,
Up the high hill he heaves a huge round stone;
The huge round stone, resulting with a bound,
Thunders impetuous down, and smokes along the
ground.
Still burns thy rage? and can brave souls resent
Even after death? Relent, great shade relent!
Perish those arms which by the gods' decree
Accursed our army with the loss of thee!
With thee we fell; Greece wept thy hapless fates,
And shook astonish'd through her hundred states.
Not more, when great Achilles press'd the ground,
And breathed his manly spirit through the wound.
O deem thy fall not owed to man's decree,
Jove hated Greece, and punish'd Greece in thee!
Turn, then, oh peaceful turn, thy wrath controul,
And calm the raging tempest of thy soul.
While yet I speak, the shade disdains to stay,
In silence turns, and sullen stalks away.
Again the restless orb his toil renews,
Dust mounts in clouds, and sweat descends in dews.
Now I the strength of Hercules behold,
A towering spectre of gigantic mould,
A shadowy form! for high in heaven's abodes
Himself resides, a god among the gods;
There, in the bright assemblies of the skies,
He nectar quaffs, and Hebè crowns his joys.
Here hovering ghosts, like fowl, his shade surround,
And clang their pinions with terrific sound;
Gloomy as night he stands, in act to throw
The aerial arrow from the twanging bow.
Around his breast a wondrous zone is roll'd,
Where woodland monsters grin in fretted gold.
There sullen lions sternly seem to roar,
The bear to growl, to foam the tusky boar;
There war and havoc and destruction stood,
And vengeful murder red with human blood.
Touch'd at his sour retreat, through deepest night,Thus terribly adorn'd the figures shine,
Through hell's black bounds I had pursued his
Inimitably wrought with skill divine.
The mighty ghost advanced with awful look,
And turning his grim visage sternly spoke.
O exercised in grief! by arts refined!
O taught to bear the wrongs of base mankind!
Such, such was I still toss'd from care to care,
While in your world I drew the vital air!
And forced the stubborn spectre to reply;
But wondrous visions drew my curious eye.
High on a throne, tremendous to behold,
Stern Minos waves a mace of burnish'd gold;
Around ten thousand thousand spectres stand
Through the wide dome of Dis, a trembling band. 700 Even I, who from the Lord of Thunders rose,
Still as they plead, the fatal lots he rolls,
Absolves the just, and dooms the guilty souls.
There huge Orion, of portentous size,
Swift through the gloom a giant-hunter flies;
A ponderous mass of brass with direful sway
Aloft he whirls, to crush the savage prey;
Stern beasts in trains that by his truncheon fell,
Now grisly forms, shoot o'er the lawns of hell.
There Tityus large and long, in fetters bound,
O'erspreads nine acres of infernal ground;
Two ravenous vultures, furious for their food,
Scream o'er the fiend, and riot in his blood,
Incessant gore the liver in his breast,
The immortal liver grows, and gives the immortal
For as o'er Panopè's enamell'd plains
Latona journey'd to the Pythian fanes,
Bore toils and dangers, and a weight of woes;
To a base monarch still a slave confined
(The hardest bondage to a generous mind!)
Down to these worlds I trod the dismal way,
And dragg'd the three-mouth'd dog to upper day;
Even hell I conquer'd through the friendly aid
Of Maia's offspring and the martial maid.
Thus he, nor deign'd for our reply to stay,
But, turning, stalk'd with giant strides away.
Curious to view the kings of ancient days,
The mighty dead that lived in endless praise,
Resolved I stand; and haply had survey'd
The godlike Theseus, and Pirithous' shade;
But swarms of spectres rose from deepest hell,
With bloodless visage, and with hideous yell,
They scream,they shriek; sad groans and dismal sounds
Stun my scar'd ears, and pierce hell's utmost bounda
No more my heart the dismal din sustains,
And my cold blood hangs shivering in my veins;
Lest Gorgon, rising from the infernal lakes,
With horrors arm'd, and curls of hissing snakes,
Should fix me stiffen'd at the monstrous sight,
A stony image, in eternal night!
Straight from the direful coast to purer air
I speed my flight, and to my mates repair.
My mates ascend the ship; they strike their oars;
The mountains lessen, and retreat the shores:
Swift o'er the waves we fly; the freshening gales
Sing through the shrouds, and stretch the swelling
sails.
The Sirens, Scylla and Charybdis.
The goddess spoke: in feasts we waste the day,
Till Phoebus downward plunged his burning ray; 40
Then sable night ascends, and balmy rest
Seals every eye, and calms the troubled breast
Then, curious, she commands me to relate
The dreadful scenes of Pluto's dreary state.
She sat in silence while the tale I tell,
790 The wondrous visions, and the laws of hell.
Then thus: The lot of man the gods dispose;
These ills are past: now hear thy future woes.
O prince, attend! some favouring power be kind,
And print the important story on thy mind!
Next, where the Sirens dwell, you plough the
He relates how, after his return from the shades he was sent by Circe on his voyage, by the coast of the Sirens. and by the strait of Scylla and Charybdis: the man. ner in which he escaped those dangers: how, being cast on the island of Trinacria, his companions destroyed the oxen of the Sun: the vengeance that followed; how all perished by shipwreck except himself, who, swimming on the mast of the ship, arrived on the island of Calypso. With which his narration concludes.
THUS o'er the rolling surge the vessel flies,
Till from the waves the Eaan hills arise.
Here the gay morn resides in radiant bowers,
Here keeps her revels with the dancing Hours;
Here Phoebus rising in the ethereal way,
Their song is death, and makes destruction please.
Unblest the man, whom music wins to stay
Nigh the curst shore, and listen to the lay.
No more that wretch shall view the joys of life,
His blooming offspring, or his beauteous wife:
In verdant meads they sport; and wide around
Lie human bones, that whiten all the ground;
The ground polluted floats with human gore,
And human carnage taints the dreadful shore.
Fly swift the dangerous coast: let every ear
Be stopp'd against the song! 'tis death to hear!
Firm to the mast thyself with chains be bound,
Nor trust thy virtue to the enchanting sound.
If, mad with transport, freedom thou demand,
Be every fetter strain'd, and added band to band.
These seas o'erpass'd, be wise! but I refrain
To mark distinct thy voyage o'er the main :
New horrors rise! let prudence be thy guide,
And guard thy various passage through the tide.
High o'er the main two rocks exalt their brow,
The boiling billows thundering roll below;
Through heaven's bright portals pours the beamy day. Through the vast waves the dreadful wonders move,
At once we fix our halsers on the land,
At once descend, and press the desert sand:
There, worn and wasted, lose our cares in sleep
To the hoarse murmurs of the rolling deep.
Soon as the morn restored the day, we paid
Sepulchral honours to Elpenor's shade.
Now by the ax the rushing forest bends,
And the huge pile along the shore ascends,
Around we stand, a melancholy train,
And a loud groan re-echoes from the main.
Fierce o'er the pyre, by fanning breezes spread
The hungry flame devours the silent dead.
A rising tomb, the silent dead to grace,
Fast by the roarings of the main we place;
The rising tomb a lofty column bore,
And high above it rose the tapering oar.
Hence named Erratic by the gods above.
No bird of air, no dove of swiftest wing,
That bears ambrosia to the ethereal king,
10 Shuns the dire rocks: in vain she cuts the skies,
The dire rocks meet, and crush her as she flies;
Not the fleet bark, when prosperous breezes play,
Ploughs o'er that roaring surge its desperate way; 80
O'erwhelm'd it sinks: while round a smoke expires,
And the waves flashing seem to burn with fires.
Scarce the famed Argo, pass'd these raging floods,
The sacred Argo, fill'd with demigods!
Even she had sunk, but Jove's imperial bride
Wing'd her fleet sail, and push'd her o'er the tide.
20 High in the air the rock its summit shrouds
In brooding tempests, and in rolling clouds:
Loud storms around, and mists eternal rise,
Beat its bleak brow, and intercept the skies.
When all the broad expansion, bright with day,
Glows with the autumnal or the summer ray,
The summer and the autumn glow in vain,
The sky for ever lowers, for ever clouds remain.
Impervious to the step of man it stands,
Though borne by twenty feet, though arm'd with
twenty hands;
Meantime the goddess our return survey'd
From the pale ghosts, and hell's tremendous shade.
Swift she descends: a train of nymphs divine
Bear the rich viands and the generous wine:
In act to speak the power of magic stands,
And graceful thus accosts the listening bands.
O sons of woe! decreed by adverse fates
Alive to pass through hell's eternal gates!
All, soon or late, are doom'd that path to tread;
More wretched you, twice number'd with the dead!
This day adjourn your cares, exalt your souls,
Indulge the taste, and drain the sparkling bowls;
And when the morn unveils her saffron ray,
Spread your broad sails, and plough the liquid way.
Lo I this night, your faithful guide, explain
Your woes by land, your dangers on the main.
Smooth as the polish of the mirror rise
The slippery sides, and shoot into the skies.
Full in the centre of this rock display'd,
A yawning cavern casts a dreadful shade:
Nor the fleet arrow from the twanging bow,
Sent with full force, could reach the depth below.
Wide to the west the horrid gulf extends,
And the dire passage down to hell descends
O fly the dreadful sight! expand thy sails,
Ply the strong oar, and catch the nimble gales;
Here Scylla bellows from her dire abodes,
Tremendous pest, abhorr'd by man and gods!
Hideous her voice, and with less terrors roar
The whelps of lions in the midnight hour.
Twelve feet, deform'd and foul, the fiend dispreads;
Six horrid necks she rears, and six terrific heads;
Her jaws grin dreadful with three rows of teeth:
Jaggy they stand, the gaping den of death;
Her parts obscene the raging billows hide;
Her bosom terribly o'erlooks the tide.
When stung with hunger she embroils the flood,
The sea-dog and the dolphin are her food;
She makes the huge leviathan her prey,
And all the monsters of the watery way;
The swiftest racer of the azure plain
Here fills her sails and spreads her oars in vain :
Fell Scylla rises, in her fury roars,
At once six mouths expands, at once six men de
Close by, a rock of less enormous height
Rob not the god! and so propitious gales
Attend thy voyage, and impel thy sails;
But if thy impious hands the flocks destroy,
The gods, the gods avenge it and ye die!
'Tis thine alone (thy friends and navy lost)
Through tedious toils to view thy native coast
She ceas'd: and now arose the morning ray;
Swift to her dome the goddess held her way.
Then to my mates I measured back the plain,
Climb'd the tall bark, and rush'd into the main;
Then bending to the stroke, their oars they drew
To their broad breasts, and swift the galley flew.
Up sprung a brisker breeze: with freshening gales,
The friendly goddess stretch'd the swelling sails:
We drop our oars; at ease the pilot guides;
120 The vessel light along the level glides.
When, rising sad and slow, with pensive look,
Thus to the melancholy train I spoke:
Breaks the wild waves, and forms a dangerous strait;
Full on its crown a fig's green branches rise,
And shoot a leafy forest to the skies;
Beneath, Charybdis holds her boisterous reign
Oh friends, oh ever partners of my woes,
Attend while I what heaven foredooms disclose.
Hear all! Fate hangs o'er all; on you it lies
To live or perish! to be safe, be wise!
In flowery meads the sportive Sirens play,
Touch the soft lyre, and tune the vocal lay;
Me, me alone, with fetters firmly bound,
The gods allow to hear the dangerous sound.
'Midst roaring whirlpools, and absorbs the main: 130 Hear and obey: if freedom I demand,
Thrice in her gulfs the boiling seas subside,
Thrice in dire thunders she refunds the tide.
Oh, if thy vessel plough the direful waves
When seas retreating roar within her caves,
Ye perish all! though he who rules the main
Lend his strong aid, his aid he lends in vain.
Ah, shun the horrid gulf! by Scylla fly,
'Tis better six to lose, than all to die.
I then : O nymph, propitious to my prayer,
Goddess divine, my guardian power, declare,
Is the foul fiend from human vengeance freed?
Or, if I rise in arms, can Scylla bleed?
Then she: Oh worn by toils, oh broke in fight,
Still are new toils and war thy dire delight?
Will martial flames for ever fire thy mind,
And never, never, be to heaven resign'd?
How vain thy efforts to avenge the wrong!
Deathless the pest! impenetrably strong!
Furious and fell, tremendous to behold!
Even with a look she withers all the bold!
She mocks the weak attempts of human might:
Oh fly her rage! thy conquest is thy flight.
If but to seize thy arms thou make delay,
Again the fury vindicates her prey,
Be every fetter strain'd, be added band to band.
While yet I speak the winged galley flies
And lo! the Siren shores like mists arise.
Sunk were at once the winds: the air above,
And waves below at once forgot to move:
Some dæmon calm'd the air, and smooth'd the deep,
Hush'd the loud winds, and charm'd the waves to sleep.
Now every sail we furl, each oar we ply;
Lash'd by the stroke, the frothy waters fly.
140 The ductile wax with busy hands I mould,
And cleft in fragments, and the fragments roll'd:
The aerial region now grew warm with day,
The wax dissolved beneath the burning ray;
Then every ear I barr'd against the strain,
And from access of phrenzy lock'd the brain.
Now round the masts my mates the fetters roll'd,
And bound me limb by limb with fold on fold.
Then bending to the stroke, the active train
Plunge all at once their oars, and cleave the main.
While to the shore the rapid vessel flies,
Our swift approach the Siren choir descries;
Celestial music warbles from their tongue,
And thus the sweet deluders tune the song.
Her six mouths yawn, and six are snatch'd away.
From her foul womb Cratais gave to air
This dreadful pest! To her direct thy prayer,
To curb the monster in her dire abodes,
And guard thee through the tumult of the floods. 159
Thence to Trinacria's shore you bend your way,
Where graze thy herds, illustrious source of day!
Seven herds, seven flocks, enrich the sacred plains,
Each herd, each flock, full fifty heads contains:
The wondrous kind a length of age survey,
By breed increase not, nor by death decay.
Two sister goddesses possess the plain,
The constant guardians of the woolly train:
Lampetie fair, and Phaethusa young,
From Phoebus and the bright Neæra sprung:
Here, watchful o'er the flocks, in shady bowers
And flowery meads they waste the joyous hours.
Oh stay, oh pride of Greece! Ulysses, stay!
Oh cease thy course, and listen to our lay!
Blest is the man ordain'd our voice to hear,
The song instructs the soul, and charms the ear.
Approach! thy soul shall into raptures rise!
Approach! and learn new wisdom from the wise!
We know whate'er the kings of mighty name
Achieved at Ilion in the field of fame;
Whate'er beneath the sun's bright journey lies, 230
Oh stay, and learn new wisdom from the wise!
Thus the sweet charmers warbled o'er the main;
My soul takes wing to meet the heavenly strain;
I give the sign, and struggle to be free:
Swift row my mates, and shoot along the sea;
New chains they add, and rapid urge the way,
Till, dying off, the distant sounds decay:
Then, scudding swiftly from the dangerous ground,
The deafen'd ear unlock'd, the chains unbound
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