While here I sojourn'd, oft I heard the fame
How late Ulysses to the country came,
How loved, how honour'd, in this court he stay'd,
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 voyaged 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 in wine,
Attesting solemn all the powers divine,
That soon Ulysses would return, declared,
The sailors waiting, and the ships prepared.
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 pleased the sailors' 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 wrap me round
(Stript of my own,) and to the vessel bound.
At eve, at Ithaca's delightful land

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

360 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, oh 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;

430

440

370 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.

380

391

The ship arrived: forth-issuing on the sand
They sought repast; while, to the unhappy kind,
The pitying gods themselves my chains unbind.
Soft I descended, to the sea applied
My naked breast, and shot along the tide.
Soon pass'd beyond their sight, I left the flood
And took the spreading shelter of the wood.
Their prize escaped, the faithless pirates mourn'd;
But deem'd inquiry vain, and to their ship return'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 destined to destroy.
Oh! had he perish'd on some well-fought day,
Or in his friend's embraces died away!

Thus communed 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 himn 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 ax, and cleft the solid oak:
This on the earth he piled; a boar full fed,
Of five years age, before the pile was led:
400 The swain, whom acts of piety delight,
Observant of the gods, begins the rite:
First shears the forehead of the bristly boar,

That grateful Greece with streaming eyes might raise And suppliant stands, invoking every power

Historic marbles to record his praise;
His praise, eternal on the faithful stone,

To speed Ulysses to his native shore.
A knotty stake then aiming at his head,
Down dropt he groaning, and the spirit fled.
The scorching flames climb round on every side:
Then the singed members they with skill divide;
On these, in rolls of fat involved with art,

410 The choicest morsels lay from every part.

And with transmissive honours graced 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 men,
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;

460

470

480

Some in the flames bestrew'd with flour they threw ;
Some cut in fragments from the forks they drew :
These while on several tables they dispose,
A priest himself the blameless rustic rose;
Expert the destined 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
420 The king the chine, the honour of the feast,
Who sate delighted at his servant's board;
The faithful servant joy'd his unknown lord

420

Oh be thou dear (Ulysses cried) to Jove,
As well thou claim'st a grateful stranger's love!
Be then thy thanks (the bounteous swain replied)
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 placed the bowl,
He sate, and sweet refection cheer'd his soul.
The bread from canisters Mesaulius gave
(Eumeus' proper treasure bought this slave,
And led from Taphos, to attend his board,
A servant added to his absent lord ;)
His task it was the wheaten loaves to lay,
And from the banquet take the bowls away.
And now the rage of hunger was repress'd,
And each betakes him to his couch to rest.

Up started Thoas straight, Andræmon's son,
Nimbly he rose, and cast his garment down;
Instant, the racer vanish'd off the ground;
500 That instant in his cloak I wrapt me round:
And safe I slept, till brightly-dawning shone
The morn conspicuous on her golden throne.
Oh were my strength as then, as then my age! 570
Some friend would fence me from the winter's rage
Yet, tatter'd as I look, I challenged then
The honours and the offices of men:
Some master, or some servant, would allow
A cloak and vest-but I am nothing now!

Well hast thou spoke (rejoin'd the attentive swain ;)

Now came the night, and darkness cover'd o'er 510 Thy lips let fall no idle word or vain!

The face of things: the winds began to roar;
The driving storm the watery west wind pours,
And Jove descends in deluges of showers.
Studious of rest and warmth, Ulysses lies,
Forseeing from the first the storm would rise;
In mere necessity of coat and cloak,
With artful preface to his host he spoke.

Hear me, my friends! who this good banquet grace;
"Tis sweet to play the fool in time and place,
And wine can of their wits the wise,beguile,
Make the sage frolic, and the serious smile,
The grave in merry measures frisk about,
And many a long-repented word bring out.
Since to be talkative I now commence,
Let wit cast off the sullen yoke of sense.

580

Nor garment shalt thou want, nor ought beside,
Meet for the wandering suppliant to provide.
But in the morning take thy clothes again,
For here one vest suffices every swain;
No change of garments to our hinds is known:
But when return'd, the good Ulysses' son
With better hand shall grace with fit attires
His guest, and send thee where thy sal desires.
The honest herdsman rose, as this he said,
520 And drew before the hearth the stranger's bed:
The fleecy spoils of sheep, a goat's rough hide
He spreads; and adds a mantle thick and wide;
With store to heap above him, and below,
And guard each quarter as the tempests blow.
There lay the king and all the rest supine;
All but the careful master of the swine:
Forth hasted he to tend his bristly care;
Well arm'd, and fenced against nocturnal air;
His weighty falchion o'er his shoulder tied;
His shaggy cloak a mountain goat supplied:
With his broad spear, the dread of dogs and men,
He seeks his lodging in the rocky den.
There to the tusky herd he bends his way,
Where, screen'd from Boreas, high o'erarch'd they lay

Once I was strong (would heaven restore those days!)
And with my betters claim'd a share of praise.
Ulysses, Menelaus, led forth a band,

And join'd me with them ('twas their own com-
mand :)

530

540

A deathful ambush for the foe to lay,
Beneath Troy walls by night we took our way:
There, clad in arms, along the marshes spread,
We made the ozier-fringed bank our bed.
Full soon the inclemency of heaven I feel,
Nor had these shoulders covering, but of steel.
Sharp blew the north; snow whitening all the fields
Froze with the blast, and gathering glazed our shields:
There all but I, well fenced with cloak and vest,
Lay cover'd by their ample shields at rest.
Fool that I was! I left behind my own;
The skill of weather and of winds unknown,
And trusted to my coat and shield alone!
When now was wasted more than half the night,
And the stars faded at approaching light;
Sudden I jogg'd Ulysses, who was laid
Fast by my side, and shivering thus I said:
Here longer in this field I cannot lie;
The winter pinches, and with cold I die,
And die ashamed (oh wisest of mankind,)
The only fool who left his cloak behind.

He thought and answer'd: hardly waking yet,
Sprung in his mind a momentary wit
(That wit, which or in council, or in fight,
Still met the emergence, and determined right.)
Hush thee, he cried (soft whispering in my ear,)
Speak not a word, lest any Greek may hear-

BOOK XV.

ARGUMENT.

The Return of Telemachus.

590

600

The goddess Minerva commands Telemachus in a vision to return to Ithaca. Pisistratus and he take leave of Menelaus, and arrive at Pylos, where they part; and Telemachus sets sail, after having received on board Theoclymenus the soothsayer. The scene then changes to the cottage of Eumæus, who entertains Ulysses with a recital of his adventures. In the meantime Telemachus arrives on the coast, and sending the vessel to the town, proceeds by himself to the lodge of Eumæus.

BOOK XV.

Now had Minerva reach'd those ample plains,
Famed for the dance, where Menelaus reigns;
Anxious she flies to great Ulysses' heir,
His instant voyage challenged all her care.

Beneath the royal portico display'd,
With Nestor's son Telemachus was laid;
In sleep profound the son of Nestor lies :
Not thine, Ulysses! Care unseal'd his eyes:
Restless he grieved, with various fears oppress'd,
And all thy fortune roll'd within his breast.
When, O Telemachus! (the goddess said)
Too long in vain, too widely hast thou stray'd,
Thus leaving careless thy paternal right
The robber's prize, the prey to lawless might.
On fond pursuits neglectful while you roam,
Even now the hand of rapine sacks the dome.
Hence to Atrides; and his leave implore
To launch thy vessel for thy natal shore :
Fly while thy mother virtuous yet withstands
Her kindred's wishes, and her sire's commands;
Through both, Eurymachus pursues the dame,
And with the noblest gifts asserts his claim.
Hence therefore, while thy stores thy own remain;
Thou know'st the practice of the female train,
Lost in the children of the present spouse,
They slight the pledges of their former vows;
Their love is always with the lover past;
Still the succeeding flame expels the last.
Let o'er thy house some chosen maid preside,
Till heaven decrees to bless thee with a bride.
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 murderous band,
Ere yet thy footsteps press thy native land.
No sooner far their riot and their lust
All-covering earth shall bury deep in dust!
Then distant from the scatter'd islands steer,
Nor let the night retard thy full career;
Thy heavenly 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,
(For still to thee his loyal thoughts incline ;)
There pass the night: while he his course pursues
To bring Penelope the wish'd-for news,
That thou, safe sailing from the Pylian strand,
Art come to bless her in thy native land.

Thus spoke the goddess and resumed her flight

To the pure regions of eternal light.
Meanwhile Pisistratus he gently shakes,

Swift let us measure back the watery way,
Nor check our speed, impatient of delay.

If with desire so strong thy bosom glows,
Ill, said the king, should I thy wish oppose;
For oft in others freely I reprove

10 The ill-timed efforts of officious love;
Who love too much, hate in the like extreme,
And both the golden mean alike condemn.
Alike he thwarts the hospitable end,
Who drives the free, or stays the hasty friend;
True friendship's laws are by this rule express'd,
Welcome the coming, speed the parting guest.
Yet stay, my friends, and in your chariot take
The noblest presents that our love can make;
Meantime commit we to our women's care
20 Some choice domestic viands to prepare ;
The traveller, rising from the banquet gay,
Eludes the labours of the tedious way.
Then if a wider course shall rather please
Through 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
Without some pledge some monument of love:
These will the caldron, these the tripod give,

30 From those the well-pair'd mules we shall receive,
Or bowl emboss'd whose golden figures live.

To whom the youth, for prudence famed, replied:

80

90

O monarch, care of heaven! thy people's pride! 101
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;
Lest, in a search too anxious and too vain
40 Of one lost joy, I loose what yet remain.
His purpose when the
generous warrior heard,
He charged the household cates to be prepared.
Now with the dawn, from his adjoining home, 110
Was Boëthodes Eteoneus come;

Swift as the word he forms the rising blaze,
And o'er the coals the smoking fragments lays.
Meantime the king, his son, and Helen, went
Where the rich wardrobe breath'd a costly scent.
The king selected from the glittering rows
50 A bowl; the prince a silver beaker chose,
The beauteous queen revolved with careful eyes
Her various textures of unnumber'd dyes,
And chose the largest; with no vulgar art

And with these words the slumbering youth awakes. Her own fair hands embroider'd every part

Rise, son of Nestor; for the road prepare,
And join the harness'd 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

Beneath the rest it lay divinely bright,
Like radiant Hesper o'er the gems of night.
Then with each gift they hasten'd to their guest,
And thus the king Ulysses' heir address'd.
Since fix'd are thy resolves, may thundering Jove

Shall prompt our speed, and point the ready way. 60 With happiest omens thy desires approve!

Nor think of flight before the Spartan king
Shall bid farewell, and bounteous presents bring;
Gifts, which to distant ages safely stored,
The sacred act of friendship shall record.

Thus he. But when the dawn bestreak'd the east,
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 o'er his ample shoulders whirl'd the cloak,
Respectful met the monarch, and bespoke.

Hail, great Atrides, favour'd of high Jove!
Let not thy friends in vain for licence move.

This silver bowl, whose costly margins shine
Enchased with gold, this valued gift be thine;
To me this present, of Vulcanian frame,
From Sidon's 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.
The beauteous queen, advancing next, display'd
70 The shining veil, and thus endearing said:

Accept, dear youth, this monument of love,
Long since, in better days, by Helen wove:

120

130

Safe in thy mother's care the vesture lay,
To deck thy bride, and grace the nuptial day.
Meantime may'st 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.

140

And now, when through the royal dome they pass'd,
High on a throne the king each stranger placed.
A golden ewer the attendant damsel brings,
Replete with water from the crystal springs;
With copious streams the shining vase supplies
A silver laver of capacious size.

They wash. The tables in fair order spread,
The glittering canisters are crown'd with bread;
Viands of various kinds allure the taste,
Of choicest sort and savour; rich repast!
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 ceased)
Ulysses' son, with his illustrious friend,
The horses join, the polish'd 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 destined to the powers divine)

He said; and, bending o'er 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 Phere they repair,
Whose boasted sire was sacred Alpheus' heir;
With him all night the youthful strangers stay'd,
Nor found the hospitable rites unpaid.

But soon as morning from her orient bed
Had tinged the mountains with her earliest red,
150 They join'd the steeds, and on the chariot sprung,
The brazen portals in their passage rung.

To Pylos soon they came: when thus begun
To Nestor's heir Ulysses' godlike son:
Let not Pisistratus in vain be press'd,
Nor unconsenting hear his friend's 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.
160 Too long thy father would his friend detain;
I dread his proffer'd kindness urged in vain.
The hero paused and ponder'd this request,
While love and duty warr'd within his breast.
At length resolved, he turn'd his ready hand,
And lash'd his panting coursers to the strand.
There, while within the poop with care he stored
The regal presents of the Spartan lord,
With speed begone (said he ;) call every mate,
Ere yet to Nestor I the tale relate:

His right hand held: before the steeds he stands, Then mix'd with prayers, he utters these commands.

170

Farewell, and prosper, youths! let Nestor know
What grateful thoughts still in this bosom glow,
For all the proofs of his paternal care,
Through the long dangers of the ten years war.
Ah! doubt not our report (the prince rejoin'd)
Of all the virtues of thy generous mind.
And oh! return'd might we Ulysses meet!
To him thy presents show, thy words repeat:
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
Advanced the bird of Jove: auspicious sight!
A milk-white fowl his clinching talons bore,
With care domestic pamper'd at the floor.
Peasants in vain with threatening cries pursue,
In solemn speed the bird majestic flew
Full dexter to the car: the prosperous sight
Fill'd every breast with wonder and delight.

But Nestor's 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?

'Tis true, the fervour of his generous 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,
How will his breast with honest fury glow!
This said, the sounding strokes his horses fire,
And soon he reach'd the palace of his sire.

210

220

230

240

Now (cried Telemachus) with speedy care
Hoist every sail, and every oar prepare.
Swift as the word his willing mates obey,
180 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 flourish'd long,
Till, urged by wrongs, a foreign realm he chose,
Far from the hateful cause of all his woes.
Neleus his treasures one long year detains;
As long he groan'd in Philacus's chains:
Meantime what anguish and what rage combined,
For lovely Pero rack'd his labouring mind!
Yet 'scaped he death; and vengeful of his wrong
To Pylos drove the lowing herds along;
Then (Neleus vanquish'd, and consign'd the fair
To Bias' arms) he sought a foreign air;
Argos the rich for his retreat he chose,
There form'd his empire; there his palace rose.
From him Antiphates and Mantius came :
The first begot Oïcleus great in fame,

Whilst yet the monarch paused, with doubts oppress'd,

190

The beauteous queen relieved his labouring breast.
Hear me, she cried, to whom the gods have given
To read this sign, the mystic sense of heaven
As thus the plumy sovereign of the air
Left on the mountain's brow his callow care,
And wander'd through the wide ethereal way
To pour his wrath on yon luxurious prey;
So shall thy godlike father, toss'd in vain
Through all the dangers of the boundless main
Arrive (or is perchance already come)
From slaughter'd gluttons to release the dome.
Oh! if this promised bliss by thundering Jove
(The prince replied) stand fix'd in fate above,
To thee, as to some god, I'll temples raise,
And crown thy altars with the costly blaze.

200 And he Amphiaraus, immortal name!

261

The people's saviour and divinely wise,
Beloved by Jove, and him who gilds the skies; 270
Yet short his date of life! by female pride he dies.
From Mantius Clitus, whom Aurora's love
Snatch'd for his beauty to the thrones above;

And Polyphidos, on whom Phobus shone
With fullest rays, Amphiaraus now gone:
In Hyperesia's 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 heaven he press'd
His ardent vows, the stranger thus address'd:

O thou! That dost 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,
Declare sincerely to no foe's 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,
And great Ulysses (ever honour'd name!)
Was once my sire, though now for ever lost,
In Stygian gloom he glides a pensive ghost!
Whose fate inquiring through the world we rove;
The last, the wretched proof of filial love.

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
The blood-stain d exile, ever doom'd to roam.
But bear, oh bear me o'er yon azure flood:
Receive the suppliant! spare my destined blood!
Stranger (replied the prince) securely rest
Affianced in our faith, henceforth our guest.
Thus affable Ulysses godlike heir

Such are the tasks of men of mean estate
Whom fortune dooms to serve the rich and great.
Alas! (Eumæus with a sigh rejoin'd)

How sprung a thought so monstrous in thy mind?
If on that godless race thou would'st attend,
Fate owes thee sure a miserable end!

280 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 embroidery dress'd,
With earth's 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.
Well pleased, and pleasing, in our cottage rest,
Till good Telemachus accepts his guest.

290 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!
Reward this stranger's 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 wanderings is the greatest woe:
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 mother's tender breast engage,
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?

300

310

Takes from the stranger's hand the glittering spear:
He climbs the ship, ascends the stern with haste,
And by his side the guest accepted placed.
The chief his orders gives; the obedient band
With due observance wait the chief's 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 o'er the sea.
Crunus they pass'd, next Chalcis roll'd away,
When thickening darkness closed the doubtful day:
The silver Phæa's glittering rills they lost
And skimm'd along by Elis sacred coast.
Then cautious through the rocky reaches wind,
And, turning sudden, shun the death design'd.

Meantime the king, Eumæus, and the rest,
Sate in the cottage, at their rural feast:
The banquet pass'd, and satiate every man,
To try his host, Ulysses thus began.

To whom the swain. Attend what you inquire; Laertes lives, the miserable sire,

360

370

Lives, but implores of every power to lay
The burden down, and wishes for the day.
Torn from his offspring in the eve of life,
Torn from the embraces of his tender wife,
Sole, and all comfortless, he wastes away
Old age, untimely posting ere his day.
She too, sad mother! for Ulysses lost
Pined out her bloom, and vanish'd to a ghost.
(So dire a fate, ye righteous gods! avert,
From every friendly, every feeling heart!)
While yet she was, though clouded o'er with grief,
Her pleasing converse minister'd relief:
320 With Climene, her youngest daughter, bred,
One roof contain'd us, and one table fed.
But when the softly stealing pace of time,
Crept on from childhood into youthful prime,
To Samos' isle she sent the wedded fair;
Me to the fields to tend the rural care;

Yet one night more, my friends, indulge your guest | Array'd in garments her own hands had wove,

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,

And bless the friendly hand that gives me bread.
There in Ulysses' roof I may relate
Ulysses' wanderings to his royal mate
Or, mingling with the suitors' haughty train,
Not undeserving, some support obtain.
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 turn the tasteful viand o'er the flame,
Or foam the goblet with a purple stream.

Nor less the darling object of her love.
Her hapless death my brighter days o'ercast,
Yet providence deserts me not at last;

330 My present labours food and drink procure,
And more, the pleasure to relieve the poor.
Small is the comfort from the queen to hear
Unwelcome news, or vex the royal ear;
Blank and discountenanced the servants stand,
Nor dare to question where the proud command:
No profit springs beneath usurping powers;
Want feeds not there, where luxury devours;
Nor harbours charity where riot reigns:
Proud are the lords, and wretched are the swains.
The suffering chief at this began to melt;
And, oh Eumaus! thou (he cries) hast felt

340

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