But change thy seat: for not the Delian god,
Nor we, have giv'n thee Crete for our abode.
A land there is, Hesperia call'd of old,
The soil is fruitful, and the natives bold.
Th' Enotrians held it once; by later faine,
Now call'd Italia from the leader's name.
Jasius there, and Dardanus were born:
From thence we came, and thither must return.
Rise, and the sire with these glad tidings greet;
Search Italy, for Jove denies thee Crete.

"Astonish'd at their voices, and their sight,
(Nor were they dreams, but visions of the night;
I saw, I knew their faces, and descry'd
In perfect view their hair with fillets ty'd);
I started from my couch, and clammy sweat
On all my limbs and shivering body sat.
To Heaven I lift my hands with pious haste,
And sacred incense in the flames I cast.
Thus to the gods their perfect honours done,
More cheerful to my good old sire I run,
And tell the pleasing news: in little space
He found his errour of the double race.
Not, as before he deem'd, deriv'd from Crete ;
No more deluded by the doubtful seat.
Then said, 'O son! turmoil'd in Trojan fate,
Such things as these Cassandra did relate;
This day revives within my mind, what she
Foretold of Troy renew'd in Italy,

And Latian lands: but who could then have thought
That Phrygian gods to Latium should be brought?
Or who believ'd what mad Cassandra taught?
Now let us go, where Phoebus leads the way.'
He said, and we with glad consent obey:
Forsake the seat; and, leaving few behind,
We spread our sails before the willing wind.
Now from the sight of land our gallies move,
With only seas around, and skies above.
When o'er our heads descends a burst of rain,
And night, with sable clouds, involves the main ;
The ruffling winds the foamy billows raise;
The scatter'd fleet is forc'd to several ways;
The face of Heaven is ravish'd from our eyes,
And, in redoubled peals, the roaring thunder flies.
Cast from our course, we wander in the dark ;
No stars to guide, no point of land to mark.
Ev'n Palinurus no distinction found [around.
Betwixt the night and day, such darkness reign'd
Three starless nights the doubtful navy strays
Without distinction, and three sunless days.
The fourth renews the light, and, from our shrouds,
We view a rising land like distant clouds:
The mountain-tops confirm the pleasing sight,
And curling smoke ascending from their height.
The canvass falls, their oars the sailors ply,
From the rude strokes the whirling waters fly.
At length I land upon the Strophades,
Safe from the danger of the stormy seas:
Those isles are compass'd by th' Iönian main,
The dire abode where the foul harpies reign:
Forc'd by the winged warriors to repair
To their old homes, and leave their costly fare.
Monsters more fierce, offended Heaven ne'er sent
From Hell's abyss, for human punishment,
With virgin faces, but with womb's obscene,
Foul paunches, and with ordure still unclean:
With claws for hands, and looks for ever lean.
"We landed at the port, and soon beheld
Fat herds of oxen graze the flowery field:
And wanton goats without a keeper stray'd;
With weapons we the welcome prey invade.

Then call the gods for partners of our feast:
And Jove himself the chief invited guest.
We spread the tables on the greensward ground?
We feed with hunger, and the bowls go round:
When from the mountain tops, with hideous cry,
And clattering wings, the hungry harpies fly :
They snatch the meat, defiling all they find;
And, parting, leave a loathsome stench behind.
Close by a hollow rock again we sit,
New-dress the dinner, and the beds refit ;
Secure from sight, beneath a pleasing shade,
Where tufted trees a native arbour made.
Again the holy fires on altars burn,
And once again the ravenous birds return:
Or from the dark recesses where they lie,
Or from another quarter of the sky;
With filthy claws their odious meal repeat,
And mix their loathsome ordures with their meat.
I bid my friends for vengeance then prepare,
And with the hellish nation wage the war.
They, as commanded, for the fight provide,
And in the grass their glittering weapons hide;
Then, when along the crooked shore we hear
Their clattering wings, and saw the foes appear,
Misenus sounds a charge: we take th' alarm,
And our strong hands with swords and bucklers
In this new kind of combat all employ
Their utmost force the monsters to destroy.
In vain; the fated skin is proof to wounds:
And, from their plumes, the shining sword re

bounds.

[arm.

At length, rebuff'd, they leave their mangled prey,
And their stretch'd pinions to the skies display.
Yet one remain'd the messenger of fate,
High on the craggy cliffs Celæno sat,

And thus her dismal errand did relate :

What, not contented with our oxen slain, Dare you with Heaven an impious war maintain, And drive the harpies from their native reign? Heed, therefore, what I say, and keep in mind What Jove decrees, what Phoebus has design'd: And I, the fury's queen, from both relate: You seek th' Italian shores, foredoom'd by fate: Th' Italian shores are granted you to find, And a safe passage to the port assign'd. But know, that ere your promis'd walls you build, My curses shall severely be fulfill'd. Fierce famine is your lot, for this misdeed, Reduc'd to grind the plates on which you feed.' She said, and to the neighbouring forest flew : Our courage fails us, and our fears renew. Hopeless to win by war, to prayers we fall, And on th' offended harpies humbly call. And whether gods or birds obscene they were, Our vows for pardon and for peace prefer. But old Anchises, offering sacrifice, And lifting up to Heaven his hands and eyes, Ador'd the greater gods: Avert,' said he, 'These omens; render vain this prophecy ; And, from th' impending curse, a pious people free. Thus having said, he bids us put to sea; We loose from shore our hausers, and obey, And soon, with swelling sails, pursue our watery

way.

Amidst our course Zacynthian woods appear;
And next by rocky Neritos we steer :-
We fly from Ithaca's detested shore,
And curse the land which dire Ulysses bore.
At length Leucate's cloudy top appears,
And the Sun's temple, which the sailor fears.

Resolv'd to breathe a while from labour past,
Our crooked anchors from the prow we cast,
And joyful to the little city haste.

Here safe, beyond our hopes, our vows we pay
To Jove, the guide and patron of our way.
The customs of our country we pursue,
And Trojan games on Actian shores renew.
Our youth their naked limbs besmear with oil,
And exercise the wrestlers' noble toil.
Pleas'd to have sail'd so long before the wind,
And left so many Grecian towns behind.
The Sun had now fulfill'd his annual course,
And Boreas on the seas display'd his force:
I fix'd upon the temple's lofty door

The brazen shield which vanquish'd Abas bore:
The verse beneath my name and action speaks,
'These arms Æneas took from conquering Greeks.'
Then I command to weigh; the seamen ply
Their sweeping oars, the smoking billows fly.
The sight of high Phæacia soon we lost,
And skimm'd along Epirus' rocky coast.
Then to Chaonia's port our course we bend,
And, landed, to Buthrotus' heights ascend.
Here wondrous things were loudly blaz'd by fame,
How Helenus reviv'd the Trojan name,

And reign'd in Greece: that Priam's captive son
Succeeded Pyrrhus in his bed and throne.
And fair Andromache, restor❜d by fate,
Once more was happy in a Trojan mate,
I leave my gallies riding in the port,
And long to see the new Dardanian court.
By chance, the mournful queen, before the gate,
Then solemniz'd her former husband's fate.
Green altars, raiş'd of turf, with gifts she crown'd
And sacred priests in order stand around,
And thrice the name of hapless Hector sound.
The grove itself resembles Ida's wood,
And Simois seem'd the well-dissembled flood.
But when, at nearer distance, she beheld
My shining armour, and my Trojan shield,
Astonish'd at the sight, the vital heat
Forsakes her limbs, her veins no longer beat:
She faints, she falls; and, scarce recovering
strength,
[length:
Thus, with a faultering tongue, she speaks at
"Are you alive, O goddess-born!' she said,
Or if a ghost, then where is Hector's shade?'
At this she cast a loud and frightful cry:
With broken words I made this brief reply:
All of me that remains appears in sight.
I live; if living be to loath the light.
No phantom; but I drag a wretched life;
My fate resembling that of Hector's wife.
What have you suffer'd since you lost your lord?
By what strange blessings are you now restor'd?
Still are you Hector's, or is Hector fled,
And his remembrance lost in Pyrrhus' bed?
With eyes dejected, in a lowly tone,
After a modest pause, she thus begun :
Oh only happy maid of Priam's race,

Whom death deliver'd from the foes' embrace!
Commanded on Achilles' tomb to die,
Not forc'd, like us, to hard captivity;
Or in a haughty master's arms to lie.
In Grecian ships unhappy we were borne:
Endur'd the victor's lust; sustain'd the scorn ;
Thus I submitted to the lawless pride
Of Pyrrhus, more a handmaid than a bride.
Cloy'd with possession, he forsook my bed,
And Helen's lovely daughter sought to wed,

Then me to Trojan Helenus resign'd:
And his two slaves in equal marriage join'd.
Till young Orestes, pierc'd with deep despair,
And longing to redeem the promis'd fair,
Before Apollo's altar slew the ravisher.
By Pyrrhus' death the kingdom we regain'd:
At least one half with Helenus remain'd;
Our part, from Chaon, he Chaonia calls:
And names, from Pergamus, his rising walls.
But you, what fates have landed on our coast,
What gods have sent you, or what storms have
toss'd?

Does young Ascanius life and health enjoy,
Sav'd from the ruins of unhappy Troy?

O tell me how his mother's loss he bears,
What hopes are promis'd from his blooming years,
How much of Hector in his face appears?'
She spoke and mix'd her speech with mournful
cries:

And fruitless tears came trickling from her eyes.
At length her lord descends upon the plain,
In pomp attended with a numerous train:
Receives his friends, and to the city leads,
And tears of joy amidst his welcome sheds,
Proceeding on, another Troy I see;
Or, in less compass, Troy's epitome.
A rivulet by the name of Xanthus ran:
And I embrace the Scæan gate again.
My friends in porticos were entertain'd,
And feasts and pleasures through the city reign'd.
The tables fill'd the spacious hall around,
And golden bowls with sparkling wine were crown'd
Two days we pass'd in mirth, till friendly gales,
Blown from the south, supply'd our swelling sails,
Then to the royal seer I thus began:

O thou, who know'st, beyond the reach of man,
The laws of Heaven, and what the stars decree,
Whom Phoebus taught th' unerring prophecy,
From his own tripod, and his holy tree:
Skill'd in the wing'd inhabitants of air,
What auspices their notes and flights declare:
O say; for all religious rites portend
A happy voyage, and a prosperous end;
Aud every power and omen of the sky
Direct my course for destin'd Italy.
But only dire Celano, from the gods,
A dismal farmine fatally forebodes:
O say what dangers I am first to shun,
What toils to vanquish, and what course to run.'
"The prophet first with sacrifice adores
The greater gods; their pardon then implores:
Unbinds the fillet from his holy head;
To Phoebus next my trembling steps he led,
Full of religious doubts and awful dread.
Then, with his god possess'd, before the shrine,
These words proceeded from his mouth divine:
"O goddess-born (for Heaven's appointed will,
With greater auspices of good than ill,
Foreshows thy voyage, and thy course directs;
Thy fates conspire, and Jove himself protects):
Of many things, some few I shall explain,
Teach thee to shun the dangers of the main,
And how at length the promis'd shore to gain.
The rest the Fates from Helenus conceal;
And Juno's angry power forbids to tell.
First then, that happy shore, that seems so nigh,
Will far from your deluded wishes fly:

Iong tracts of seas divide your hopes from Italy.
For you must cruise along Sicilian shores,
And stem the currents with your struggling oars:

Then round th' Italian coast your navy steer,
And, after this, to Circe's island veer.
And last, before your new foundations rise,
Must pass the Stygian lake, and view the nether

skies.

Now mark the signs of future ease and rest,
And bear them safely treasur'd in thy breast.
When in the shady shelter of a wood,
And near the margin of a gentle flood,
Thou shalt behold a sow upon the ground,
With thirty sucking young encompass'd round;
The dam and offspring white as falling snow :
These on thy city shall their name bestow,
And there shall end thy labour and thy woe.
Nor let the threaten'd famine fright thy mind,
For Phoebus will assist, and fate the way will find.
Let not thy course to that ill coast be bent,
Which fronts from far th' Epirian continent;
Those parts are all by Grecian foes possess'd:
The savage Locrians here the shores infest.
There fierce Idomeneus his city builds,
And guards, with arms, the Salentinian fields.
And on the mountain's brow Petilia stands,
Which Philoctetes with his troops commands.
Ev'n when thy fleet is landed on the shore,
And priests with holy vows the gods adore;
Then with a purple veil involve your eyes;
Lest hostile faces blast the sacrifice.
These rites and customs to the rest commend,
That to your pious race they may descend.

[waits

"When parted hence, the wind that ready For Sicily, shall bear you to the straits: Where proud Pelorus opes a wider way, Tack to the larboard, and stand off to sea : Veer starboard sea and land. Th' Italian shore, And fair Sicilia's coast were one, before

An earthquake caus'd the flaw, the roaring tides
The passage broke, and land from land divides:
And where the lands retir'd, the rushing ocean
rides.

Distinguish'd by the straits, on either hand,
Now rising cities in long order stand,
And fruitful fields (so much can time invade
The mouldering work that beauteous Nature made).
Far on the right, her dogs foul Scylla hides:
Charybdis roaring on the left presides;
And in her greedy whirlpool sucks the tides:
Then spouts them from below; with fury driven,
The waves mount up, and wash the face of
Heaven.

But Scylla from her den, with open jaws,
The sinking vessel in her eddy draws;
Then clashes on the rocks: a human face,
And virgin-bosom, hides her tail's disgrace.
Her parts obscene below the waves descend,
With dogs enclos'd, and in a dolphin end.
'Tis safer, then, to bear aloof to sea,
And coast Pachynus, though with more delay;
Than once to view mishapen Scylla near,
And the loud yell of watery wolves to hear.
"Besides, if faith to Helenus be due,
And if prophetic Phœbus tell me true,
Do not this precept of your friend forget:
Which therefore more than once I must repeat.
Above the rest great Juno's name adore:
Pay vows to Juno; Juno's aid implore.
Let gifts be to the mighty queen design'd;
And mollify with prayers her haughty mind,
Thus, at the length, your passage shall be free,
And you shall safe descend on Italy.

Arriv'd at Cume, when you view the flood
Of black Avernus, and the sounding wood,
The mad prophetic Sibyl you shall find,
Dark in a cave, and on a rock reclin'd.
She sings the fates, and in her frantic fits,
The notes and names inscrib'd, to leaves commits.
What she commits to leaves, in order laid,
Before the cavern's entrance are display'd:
Unmov'd they lie: but if a blast of wind
Without, or vapours issue from behind,
The leaves are borne aloft in liquid air,
And she resumes no more her museful care :
Nor gathers from the rocks her scatter'd verse:
Nor sets in order what the winds disperse.
Thus, many not succeeding, most upbraid
The madness of the visionary maid;

And, with loud curses, leave the mystic shade:
"Think it not loss of time awhile to stay:
Though thy companions chide thy long delay,
Though summon'd to the seas, though pleasing

gales

Invite thy course, and stretch thy swelling sails,
But beg the sacred priestess to relate
With swelling words, and not to write thy fate.
The fierce Italian people she will show ;
And all thy wars and all thy future woe; [dergo.
And what thou may'st avoid, and what must un- ́
She shall direct thy course; instruct thy mind;
And teach thee how the happy shores to find.
This is what Heaven allows me to relate:
Now part in peace; pursue thy better fate,
And raise, by strength of arms, the Trojan state.'
"This when the priest with friendly voice declar'd,
He gave me licence, and rich gifts prepar'd:
Bounteous of treasure, he supply'd my want
With heavy gold, and polish'd elephant.
Then Dodonaan caldrons put on board,
And every ship with sums of silver stor❜d.
A trusty coat of mail to me he sent,
Thrice chain'd with gold, for use and ornament:
The helm of Pyrrhus added to the rest,
Then flourish'd with a plume and waving crest.
Nor was my sire forgotten, nor my friends:
And large recruits he to my navy sends;
Men, horses, captains, arms, and warlike stores :
Supplies new pilots, and new sweeping oars.
Meantime my sire commands to hoist our sails:
Lest we should lose the first auspicious gales.
The prophet blest the parting crew and last,
With words like these, his ancient friend embrac❜d:
'Old happy man, the care of gods above,
Whom heavenly Venus honour'd with her love,
And twice preserv'd thy life when Troy was lost,
Behold from far the wish'd Ausonian coast:
There land; but take a larger compass round;
For that before is all forbidden ground.
The shore that Phoebus has design'd for you,
At farther distance lies, conceal'd from view.
Go happy hence, and seek your new abodes;
Bless'd in a son, and favour'd by the gods:
For I with useless words prolong your stay,
When southern gales have summon'd you away.'
"Nor less the queen our parting thence deplor'd,
Nor was less bounteous than her Trojan lord.
A noble present to my son she brought,
A robe with flowers on golden tissue wrought;
A Phrygian vest; and loads, with gifts beside
Of precious texture, and of Asian pride.
'Accept,' she said, these monuments of love;
Which in my youth with happier bands I wove:

Regard these trifles for the giver's sake;
'Tis the last present Hector's wife can make.
Thou call'st my lost Astyanax to mind:
In thee his features and his form I find.
His eyes so sparkled with a lively flame;
Such were his motions, such was all his frame ;
And, ah! had Heaven so pleas'd, his years had
been the same.'

"With tears I took my last adieu, and said, Your fortune, happy fair, already made, Leaves you no farther wish: my different state, Avoiding one, incurs another fate.

To you a quiet seat the gods allow,

You have no shores to search, no seas to plough,
Nor fields of flying Italy to chase:
(Deluding visions, and a vain embrace!)
You see another Simois, and enjoy
The labour of your hands, another Troy;
With better auspice than her ancient towers,
And less obnoxious to the Grecian powers.
If e'er the gods, whom I with vows adore,
Conduct my steps to Tiber's happy shore:
If ever I ascend the Latian throne:
And build a city I may call my own,
As both of us our birth from Troy derive,
So let our kindred lives in concord live;
And both in acts of equal friendship strive.
Our fortunes, good or bad, shall be the same,
The double Troy shall differ but in name :
That what we now begin, may never end;
But long, to late posterity descend.'

"Near the Ceraunian rocks our course we bore
(The shortest passage to th' Italian shore).
Now had the Sun withdrawn his radiant light,
And hills were hid in dusky shades of night,
We land and, on the bosom of the ground,
A safe retreat and a bare lodging found;
Close by the shore we lay; the sailors keep
Their watches, and the rest securely sleep.
The night, proceeding on with silent pace,
Stood in her noon, and view'd with equal face
Her steepy rise, and her declining race.
Then wakeful Palinurus rose, to spy
The face of Heaven, and the nocturnal sky;
And listen'd every breath of air to try;
Observes the stars, and notes their sliding
course,

The Pleiads, Hyads, and their watery force;
And both the Bears is careful to behold;
And bright Orion arm'd with burnish'd gold.
Then, when he saw no threatening tempest nigh,
But a sure promise of a settled sky;

He gave the sign to weigh: we break our sleep;
Forsake the pleasing shore, and plough the deep.
And now the rising morn, with rosy light,
Adorns the skies, and puts the stars to flight:
When we from far, like bluish mists, descry
The hills, and then the plains of Italy.
Achates first pronounc'd the joyful sound;
Then Italy the cheerful crew rebound;
My sire Anchises crown'd a cup with wine,
And offering, thus implor'd the powers divine:
'Ye gods, presiding over lands and seas,
And you who raging winds and waves appease,
Breathe on our swelling sails a prosperous wind,
And smooth our passage to the port assign'd.
The gentle gales their flagging force renew;
And now the happy harbour is in view.
Minerva's temple then salutes our sight;
Plac'd as a landmark, on the mountain's height;

[stand

We furl our sails, and turn the prows to shore ;
The curling waters round the galleys rear ;
The land lies open to the raging east,
Then, bending like a bow, with rocks comprest,
Shuts out the storms; the winds and waves com-
And vent their malice on the cliff's in vain. [plain,
The port lies hid within; on either side
Two towering rocks the narrow mouth divide.
The temple, which aloft we view'd before,
To distance flies, and seems to shun the shore.
Scarce landed, the first omens I beheld [field.
Were four white steeds that cropp'd the flowery
'War, war is threaten'd from this foreign ground,'
(My father cry'd) where warlike steeds are found.
Yet, since reclaim'd to chariots they submit,
And bend to stubborn yokes, and champ the bit,
Peace may succeed to war.' Our way we bend
To Pallas, and the sacred hills ascend.
There prostrate to the fierce virago pray;
Whose temple was the land-mark of our way.
Fach with a Phrygian mantle veil'd his head;
And all commands of Helenus obey'd;
And pious rites to Grecian Juno paid.
These dues perform'd, we stretch our sails, and
To sea, forsaking that suspected land.
From hence Tarentum's bay appears in view;
For Hercules renown'd, if fame be true.
Just opposite, Lacinian Juno stands :
Caulonian towers, and Scylacæan strands
For shipwrecks fear'd: Mount Ætna thence we spy,
Known by the smoky flames which cloud the sky.
Far off we hear the waves with surly sound
Invade the rocks, the rocks their groans rebound.
The billows break upon the sounding strand;
And roll the rising tide, impure with sand.
Then thus Anchises, in experience old,
"'Tis that Charybdis which the seer foretold:
And those the promis'd rocks; bear off to sea :'
With haste the frighted mariners obey.
First Palinurus to the larboard veer'd;
Then all the fleet by his example steer'd.
To Heaven aloft on rigid waves we ride;
Then down to Hell descend, when they divide.
And thrice our gallies knock'd the stony ground,
And thrice the hollow rocks return'd the sound,
And thrice we saw the stars, that stood with dews
around.

The flagging winds forsook us with the Sun ;
And, weary'd, on Cyclopean shores we run.
The port capacious, and secure from wind,
Is to the foot of thundring Etna join'd.
By turns a pitchy cloud she rolls on high;
By turns hot embers from her entrails fly;
And flakes of mountain flames, that lick the sky.
Oft from her bowels massy rocks are thrown,
And shiver'd by the force come piece-meal down.
Oft liquid lakes of burning sulphur flow,
Fed from the fiery springs that burn below.
Enceladus, they say, transfix'd by Jove,
With blasted limbs came trembling from above:
And when he fell, th' avenging father drew
This flaming hill, and on his body threw :
As often as he turns his weary sides,
He shakes the solid isle, and smoke the Heavens
In shady woods we pass the tedious night,
Where bellowing sounds and groans our souls

affright;

[hides.

Of which no cause is offered to the sight.
For not one star was kindled in the sky;
Nor could the Moon her borrow'd light supply:

For misty clouds involv'd the firmament;
The stars were muffled, and the Moon was pent.
Scarce had the rising Sun the day reveal'd;
Scarce had his heat the pearly-dews dispell'd;
When from the woods there bolts, before our sight,
Somewhat betwixt a mortal and a sprite,
So thin, so ghastly meagre, and so wan,
So bare of flesh, he scarce resembled man.
This thing, all tatter'd, seem'd from far t' implore
Our pious aid, and pointed to the shore.
We look behind; then view his shaggy beard;
His clothes were tagg'd with thorns, and filth his
limbs besmear'd;

The rest, in mien, in habit, and in face,
Appear'd a Greek, and such indeed he was,
He cast ou us, from far, a frightful view,
Whom soon for Trojans and for foes he knew:
Stood still, and paus'd; thence all at once began
To stretch his limbs, and trembled as he ran.
Soon as approach'd, upon his knees he falls,
And thus, with tears and sighs, for pity calls:
Now by the powers above and what we share
From Nature's common gift, this vital air,
O Trojans, take me hence; I beg no more,
But bear me far from this unhappy shore!
'Tis true, I am a Greek, and farther own,
Among your foes besieg'd th' imperial town;
For such demerits if my death be due,
No more for this abandon'd life I sue:
This only favour let my tears obtain,
To throw me headlong in the rapid main :
Since nothing more than death my crime demands:
I die content, to die by human hands.'
He said, and on his knees my knees embrac'd:
I bade him boldly tell his fortune past;
His present state, his lineage, and his name;
Th' occasion of his fears, and whence he came.
The good Anchises rais'd him with his hand;
Who, thus encourag'd, answer'd our demand:
'From Ithaca my native soil I came
To Troy, and Achæmenides my name.
Me, my poor father with Ulysses sent;
(Oh had I stay'd with poverty content!)
But, fearful for themselves, my countrymen
Left me forsaken in the Cyclops' den.

The cave, though large, was dark; the dismal floor

Was pav d with mangled limbs and putrid gore.
Our monstrous host, of more than human size,
Erects his head, and stares within the skies,
Bellowing his voice, and horrid is his hue.
Ye gods, remove this plague from mortal view!
The joints of slaughter'd wretches are his food:
And for his wine he quaffs the streaming blood.
These eyes beheld, when with his spacious hand
He seiz'd two captives of our Grecian band;
Stretch'd on his back, he dash'd against the stones
Their broken bodies, and their crackling bones :
With spouting blood the purple pavement swims,
While the dire glutton grinds the trembling limbs.
Not unreveng'd, Ulysses bore their fate
Nor thoughtless of his own unhappy state;
For, gorg'd with flesh, and drunk with human wine,
While fast asleep the giant lay supine:
Snoring aloud, and belching from his maw
His indigested foam, and morsels raw :
We pray, we cast the lots, and then surround
The monstrous body, stretch'd along the ground:
Each, as he could approach him, lends a hand
To bore his eyeball with a flaming brand;

Beneath his frowning forehead lay his eye
(For only one did the vast frame supply);
But that a globe so large, his front it fill'd,
Like the Sun's disk, or like a Grecian shield.
The stroke succeeds; aud down the pupil bends;
This vengeance follow'd for our slaughter'd friends.
But haste, unhappy wretches, haste to fly;
Your cables cut, and on your oars rely,
Such and so vast as Polypheme appears,
A hundred more this hated island bears:
Like him, in caves they shut their woolly sheep;
Like him, their herds on tops of mountains keep ;
Like him, with mighty strides, they stalk from

steep to steep.

And now three moons their sharpen'd horns renew,
Since thus in woods and wilds, obscure from view,
I drag my loathsome days with mortal fright;
And, in deserted caverns, lodge by night,
Oft from the rocks a dreadful prospect see
Of the huge Cyclops, like a walking tree:
From far I hear his thundering voice resound;
And trampling feet that shake the solid ground,
Cornels, and savage berries of the wood,
And roots, and herbs, have been my meagre food,
"While all around my longing eyes are cast,

I saw your happy ships appear at last:
On those I fix'd my hopes, to these I run,
'Tis all I ask, this cruel race to shun :
What other death you please yourselves, bestow,'
Scarce had he said, when, on the mountain's brow,
We saw the giant-shepherd stalk before
His following flock, and leading to the shore,
A monstrous bulk, deform'd, depriv'd of sight,
His staff a trunk of pine to guide his steps aright,
His ponderous whistle from his neck descends;
His woolly care their pensive lord attends:
This only solace his hard fortune sends.
Soon as he reach'd the shore, and touch'd the waves,
From his bor'd eye the guttering blood he laves:
He gnash'd his teeth and groan'd; through seas he

strides,

[main.

And scarce the topmast billows touch his sides.
"Seiz'd with a sudden fear, we run to sea,
The cables cut, and silent baste away:
The well-deserving stranger entertain;
Then, buckling to the work, our oars divide the
The giant hearken'd to the dashing sound:
But when our vessels out of reach he found,
He strided onward; and in vain essay'd
Th' Iönian deep, and durst no farther wade.
With that he roar'd aloud: the dreadful cry
Shakes earth, and air, and seas; the billows fly,
Before the bellowing noise, to distant Italy.
The neighbouring Ætna trembling all around:
The winding caverns echo to the sound.
His brother Cyclops hear the yelling roar :
And, rushing down the mountains, crowd the shore,
We saw their stern distorted looks from far,
And one-ey'd glance, that vainly threaten'd war.
A dreadful council with their heads on high;
The misty clouds about their foreheads By:
Not yielding to the towering tree of Jove,
Or tallest cypress of Diana's grove.
New pangs of mortal fear our minds assail,
We tug at every oar, and hoist up every sail;
And take th' advantage of the friendly gale.
Forewarn'd by Helenus we strive to shun
Charybdis' gulph, nor dare to Scylla run.
An equal fate on either side appears;
We, tacking to the left, are free from fears: