BOOK VARGUMENTMercury bears to Calypso a command from Jupiter that she dismiss Ulysses. She, after some remonstrances, promises obedience, and furnishes him with instruments and materials, with which he constructs a raft. He quits Calypso’s island; is persecuted by Neptune with dreadful tempests, but by the assistance of a sea nymph, after having lost his raft, is enabled to swim to Phæacia.Aurora from beside her glorious mateTithonus now arose, light to dispenseThrough earth and heav’n, when the assembled GodsIn council sat, o’er whom high-thund’ring JovePresided, mightiest of the Pow’rs above.Amid them, Pallas on the num’rous woesDescanted of Ulysses, whom she sawWith grief, still prison’d in Calypso’s isle.Jove, Father, hear me, and ye other Pow’rsWho live for ever, hear! Be never King10Henceforth to gracious acts inclined, humane,Or righteous, but let ev’ry sceptred handRule merciless, and deal in wrong alone,Since none of all his people whom he sway’dWith such paternal gentleness and loveRemembers, now, divine Ulysses more.He, in yon distant isle a suff’rer liesOf hopeless sorrow, through constraint the guestStill of the nymph Calypso, without meansOr pow’r to reach his native shores again,20Alike of gallant barks and friends depriv’d,Who might conduct him o’er the spacious Deep.Nor is this all, but enemies combineTo slay his son ere yet he can returnFrom Pylus, whither he hath gone to learnThere, or in Sparta, tidings of his Sire.To whom the cloud-assembler God replied.What word hath pass’d thy lips, daughter belov’d?Hast thou not purpos’d that arriving soonAt home, Ulysses shall destroy his foes?30Guide thou, Telemachus, (for well thou canst)That he may reach secure his native coast,And that the suitors baffled may return.He ceas’d, and thus to Hermes spake, his son.Hermes! (for thou art herald of our willAt all times) to yon bright-hair’d nymph conveyOur fix’d resolve, that brave Ulysses thenceDepart, uncompanied by God or man.Borne on a corded raft, and suff’ring woeExtreme, he on the twentieth day shall reach,40Not sooner, Scherie the deep-soil’d, possess’dBy the Phæacians, kinsmen of the Gods.They, as a God shall reverence the Chief,And in a bark of theirs shall send him thenceTo his own home, much treasure, brass and goldAnd raiment giving him, to an amountSurpassing all that, had he safe return’d,He should by lot have shared of Ilium’s spoil.Thus Fate appoints Ulysses to regainHis country, his own palace, and his friends.50He ended, nor the Argicide refused,Messenger of the skies; his sandals fair,Ambrosial, golden, to his feet he bound,Which o’er the moist wave, rapid as the wind,Bear him, and o’er th’ illimitable earth,Then took his rod with which, at will, all eyesHe closes soft, or opes them wide again.So arm’d, forth flew the valiant Argicide.Alighting on Pieria, down he stoop’dTo Ocean, and the billows lightly skimm’d60In form a sew-mew, such as in the baysTremendous of the barren Deep her foodSeeking, dips oft in brine her ample wing.In such disguise o’er many a wave he rode,But reaching, now, that isle remote, forsookThe azure Deep, and at the spacious grot,Where dwelt the amber-tressed nymph arrived,Found her within. A fire on all the hearthBlazed sprightly, and, afar-diffused, the scentOf smooth-split cedar and of cypress-wood70Odorous, burning, cheer’d the happy isle.She, busied at the loom, and plying fastHer golden shuttle, with melodious voiceSat chaunting there; a grove on either side,Alder and poplar, and the redolent branchWide-spread of Cypress, skirted dark the cave.There many a bird of broadest pinion builtSecure her nest, the owl, the kite, and dawLong-tongued, frequenter of the sandy shores.A garden-vine luxuriant on all sides80Mantled the spacious cavern, cluster-hungProfuse; four fountains of serenest lymphTheir sinuous course pursuing side by side,Stray’d all around, and ev’ry where appear’dMeadows of softest verdure, purpled o’erWith violets; it was a scene to fillA God from heav’n with wonder and delight.Hermes, Heav’n’s messenger, admiring stoodThat sight, and having all survey’d, at lengthEnter’d the grotto; nor the lovely nymph90Him knew not soon as seen, for not unknownEach to the other the Immortals are,How far soever sep’rate their abodes.Yet found he not within the mighty ChiefUlysses; he sat weeping on the shore,Forlorn, for there his custom was with groansOf sad regret t’ afflict his breaking heart.Looking continual o’er the barren Deep.Then thus Calypso, nymph divine, the GodQuestion’d, from her resplendent throne august.100Hermes! possessor of the potent rod!Who, though by me much reverenc’d and belov’d,So seldom com’st, say, wherefore comest now?Speak thy desire; I grant it, if thou askThings possible, and possible to me.Stay not, but ent’ring farther, at my boardDue rites of hospitality receive.So saying, the Goddess with ambrosial foodHer table cover’d, and with rosy juiceNectareous charged the cup. Then ate and drank110The argicide and herald of the skies,And in his soul with that repast divineRefresh’d, his message to the nymph declared.Questionest thou, O Goddess, me a God?I tell thee truth, since such is thy demand.Not willing, but by Jove constrain’d, I come.For who would, voluntary, such a breadthEnormous measure of the salt expanse,Where city none is seen in which the GodsAre served with chosen hecatombs and pray’r?120But no divinity may the designsElude, or controvert, of Jove supreme.He saith, that here thou hold’st the most distrestOf all those warriors who nine years assail’dThe city of Priam, and, (that city sack’d)Departed in the tenth; but, going thence,Offended Pallas, who with adverse windsOpposed their voyage, and with boist’rous waves.Then perish’d all his gallant friends, but himBillows and storms drove hither; Jove commands130That thou dismiss him hence without delay,For fate ordains him not to perish hereFrom all his friends remote, but he is doom’dTo see them yet again, and to arriveAt his own palace in his native land.He said; divine Calypso at the soundShudder’d, and in wing’d accents thus replied.Ye are unjust, ye Gods, and envious pastAll others, grudging if a Goddess takeA mortal man openly to her arms!140So, when the rosy-finger’d Morning choseOrion, though ye live yourselves at ease,Yet ye all envied her, until the chasteDiana from her golden throne dispatch’dA silent shaft, which slew him in Ortygia.So, when the golden-tressed Ceres, urgedBy passion, took Iäsion to her armsIn a thrice-labour’d fallow, not untaughtWas Jove that secret long, and, hearing it,Indignant, slew him with his candent bolt.150So also, O ye Gods, ye envy meThe mortal man, my comfort. Him I savedMyself, while solitary on his keelHe rode, for with his sulph’rous arrow JoveHad cleft his bark amid the sable Deep.Then perish’d all his gallant friends, but himBillows and storms drove hither, whom I lov’dSincere, and fondly destin’d to a lifeImmortal, unobnoxious to decay.But since no Deity may the designs160Elude or controvert of Jove supreme,Hence with him o’er the barren Deep, if suchThe Sov’reign’s will, and such his stern command.But undismiss’d he goes by me, who shipsMyself well-oar’d and mariners have noneTo send with him athwart the spacious flood;Yet freely, readily, my best adviceI will afford him, that, escaping allDanger, he may regain his native shore.Then Hermes thus, the messenger of heav’n.170Act as thou say’st, fearing the frown of Jove,Lest, if provoked, he spare not even thee.So saying, the dauntless Argicide withdrew,And she (Jove’s mandate heard) all-graceful went,Seeking the brave Ulysses; on the shoreShe found him seated; tears succeeding tearsDelug’d his eyes, while, hopeless of return,Life’s precious hours to eating cares he gaveContinual, with the nymph now charm’d no more.Yet, cold as she was am’rous, still he pass’d180His nights beside her in the hollow grot,Constrain’d, and day by day the rocks amongWhich lined the shore heart-broken sat, and oftWhile wistfully he eyed the barren Deep,Wept, groaned, desponded, sigh’d, and wept again.Then, drawing near, thus spake the nymph divine.Unhappy! weep not here, nor life consumeIn anguish; go; thou hast my glad consent.Arise to labour; hewing down the trunksOf lofty trees, fashion them with the ax190To a broad raft, which closely floor’d above,Shall hence convey thee o’er the gloomy Deep.Bread, water, and the red grape’s cheering juiceMyself will put on board, which shall preserveThy life from famine; I will also giveNew raiment for thy limbs, and will dispatchWinds after thee to waft thee home unharm’d,If such the pleasure of the Gods who dwellIn yonder boundless heav’n, superior farTo me, in knowledge and in skill to judge.200She ceas’d; but horror at that sound the heartChill’d of Ulysses, and in accents wing’dWith wonder, thus the noble Chief replied.Ah! other thoughts than of my safe returnEmploy thee, Goddess, now, who bid’st me passThe perilous gulph of Ocean on a raft,That wild expanse terrible, which even shipsPass not, though form’d to cleave their way with ease,And joyful in propitious winds from Jove.No—let me never, in despight of thee,210Embark on board a raft, nor till thou swear,O Goddess! the inviolable oath,That future mischief thou intend’st me none.He said; Calypso, beauteous Goddess, smiled,And, while she spake, stroaking his cheek, replied.Thou dost asperse me rudely, and excuseOf ignorance hast none, far better taught;What words were these? How could’st thou thus reply?Now hear me Earth, and the wide Heav’n above!Hear, too, ye waters of the Stygian stream220Under the earth (by which the blessed GodsSwear trembling, and revere the awful oath!)That future mischief I intend thee none.No, my designs concerning thee are suchAs, in an exigence resembling thine,Myself, most sure, should for myself conceive.I have a mind more equal, not of steelMy heart is form’d, but much to pity inclined.So saying, the lovely Goddess with swift paceLed on, whose footsteps he as swift pursued.230Within the vaulted cavern they arrived,The Goddess and the man; on the same throneUlysses sat, whence Hermes had aris’n,And viands of all kinds, such as sustainThe life of mortal man, Calypso placedBefore him, both for bev’rage and for food.She opposite to the illustrious ChiefReposed, by her attendant maidens servedWith nectar and ambrosia. They their handsStretch’d forth together to the ready feast,240And when nor hunger more nor thirst remain’dUnsated, thus the beauteous nymph began.Laertes’ noble son, for wisdom famedAnd artifice! oh canst thou thus resolveTo seek, incontinent, thy native shores?I pardon thee. Farewell! but could’st thou guessThe woes which fate ordains thee to endureEre yet thou reach thy country, well-contentHere to inhabit, thou would’st keep my grotAnd be immortal, howsoe’er thy wife250Engage thy ev’ry wish day after day.Yet can I not in stature or in formMyself suspect inferior aught to her,Since competition cannot be betweenMere mortal beauties, and a form divine.To whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied.Awful Divinity! be not incensed.I know that my Penelope in formAnd stature altogether yields to thee,For she is mortal, and immortal thou,260From age exempt; yet not the less I wishMy home, and languish daily to return.But should some God amid the sable DeepDash me again into a wreck, my soulShall bearthatalso; for, by practice taught,I have learned patience, having much enduredBy tempest and in battle both. Come thenThis evil also! I am well prepared.He ended, and the sun sinking, resign’dThe earth to darkness. Then in a recess270Interior of the cavern, side by sideReposed, they took their amorous delight.But when Aurora, daughter of the dawn,Look’d rosy forth, Ulysses then in hastePut on his vest and mantle, and, the nymphHer snowy vesture of transparent woof,Graceful, redundant; to her waist she boundHer golden zone, and veil’d her beauteous head,Then, musing, plann’d the noble Chief’s return.She gave him, fitted to the grasp, an ax280Of iron, pond’rous, double-edg’d, with haftOf olive-wood, inserted firm, and wroughtWith curious art. Then, placing in his handA polish’d adze, she led, herself, the wayTo her isles’ utmost verge, where tallest treesBut dry long since and sapless stood, which bestMight serve his purposes, as buoyant most,The alder, poplar, and cloud-piercing fir.To that tall grove she led and left him there,Seeking her grot again. Then slept not He,290But, swinging with both hands the ax, his taskSoon finish’d; trees full twenty to the groundHe cast, which, dext’rous, with his adze he smooth’d,The knotted surface chipping by a line.Meantime the lovely Goddess to his aidSharp augres brought, with which he bored the beams,Then, side by side placing them, fitted eachTo other, and with long cramps join’d them all.Broad as an artist, skill’d in naval works,The bottom of a ship of burthen spreads,300Such breadth Ulysses to his raft assign’d.He deck’d her over with long planks, upborneOn massy beams; He made the mast, to whichHe added suitable the yard;—he framedRudder and helm to regulate her course,With wicker-work he border’d all her lengthFor safety, and much ballast stow’d within.Meantime, Calypso brought him for a sailFittest materials, which he also shaped,And to his sail due furniture annex’d310Of cordage strong, foot-ropes, and ropes aloft,Then heav’d her down with levers to the Deep.He finish’d all his work on the fourth day,And on the fifth, Calypso, nymph divine,Dismiss’d him from her isle, but laved him first,And cloath’d him in sweet-scented garments new.Two skins the Goddess also placed on board,One charg’d with crimson wine, and ampler oneWith water, nor a bag with food repleteForgot, nutritious, grateful to the taste,320Nor yet, her latest gift, a gentle galeAnd manageable, which Ulysses spread,Exulting, all his canvas to receive.Beside the helm he sat, steering expert,Nor sleep fell ever on his eyes that watch’dIntent the Pleiads, tardy in declineBootes, and the Bear, call’d else the Wain,Which, in his polar prison circling, looksDirect toward Orion, and aloneOf these sinks never to the briny Deep.330That star the lovely Goddess bade him holdContinual on his left through all his course.Ten days and sev’n, he, navigating, cleav’dThe brine, and on the eighteenth day, at length,The shadowy mountains of Phæacia’s landDescried, where nearest to his course it layLike a broad buckler on the waves afloat.But Neptune, now returning from the landOf Ethiopia, mark’d him on his raftSkimming the billows, from the mountain-tops340Of distant Solyma.21With tenfold wrathInflamed that sight he view’d, his brows he shook,And thus within himself, indignant, spake.So then—new counsels in the skies, it seems,Propitious to Ulysses, have prevail’dSince Æthiopia hath been my abode.He sees Phæacia nigh, where he must leapThe bound’ry of his woes; but ere that hourArrive, I will ensure him many a groan.So saying, he grasp’d his trident, gather’d dense350The clouds and troubled ocean; ev’ry stormFrom ev’ry point he summon’d, earth and seaDarkening, and the night fell black from heav’n.The East, the South, the heavy-blowing West,And the cold North-wind clear, assail’d at onceHis raft, and heaved on high the billowy flood.All hope, all courage, in that moment, lost,The Hero thus within himself complain’d.Wretch that I am, what destiny at lastAttends me! much I fear the Goddess’ words360All true, which threaten’d me with num’rous illsOn the wide sea, ere I should reach my home.Behold them all fulfill’d! with what a stormJove hangs the heav’ns, and agitates the Deep!The winds combined beat on me. Now I sink!Thrice blest, and more than thrice, Achaia’s sonsAt Ilium slain for the Atridæ’ sake!Ah, would to heav’n that, dying, I had feltThat day the stroke of fate, when me the deadAchilles guarding, with a thousand spears370Troy’s furious host assail’d! Funereal ritesI then had shared, and praise from ev’ry Greek,Whom now the most inglorious death awaits.While thus he spake, a billow on his headBursting impetuous, whirl’d the raft around,And, dashing from his grasp the helm, himselfPlunged far remote. Then came a sudden gustOf mingling winds, that in the middle snapp’dHis mast, and, hurried o’er the waves afar,Both sail and sail-yard fell into the flood.380Long time submerged he lay, nor could with easeThe violence of that dread shock surmount,Or rise to air again, so burthensomeHis drench’d apparel proved; but, at the last,He rose, and, rising, sputter’d from his lipsThe brine that trickled copious from his brows.Nor, harass’d as he was, resign’d he yetHis raft, but buffetting the waves asideWith desp’rate efforts, seized it, and againFast seated on the middle deck, escaped.390Then roll’d the raft at random in the flood,Wallowing unwieldy, toss’d from wave to wave.As when in autumn, Boreas o’er the plainConglomerated thorns before him drives,They, tangled, to each other close adhere,So her the winds drove wild about the Deep.By turns the South consign’d her to be sportFor the rude North-wind, and, by turns, the EastYielded her to the worrying West a prey.But Cadmus’ beauteous daughter (Ino once,400Now named Leucothea) saw him; mortal erstWas she, and trod the earth,22but nymph becomeOf Ocean since, in honours shares divine.She mark’d his anguish, and, while toss’d he roam’d,Pitied Ulysses; from the flood, in formA cormorant, she flew, and on the raftClose-corded perching, thus the Chief address’d.Alas! unhappy! how hast thou incensedSo terribly the Shaker of the shores,That he pursues thee with such num’rous ills?410Sink thee he cannot, wish it as he may.Thus do (for I account thee not unwise)Thy garments putting off, let drive thy raftAs the winds will, then, swimming, strive to reachPhæacia, where thy doom is to escape.Take this. This ribbon bind beneath thy breast,Celestial texture. Thenceforth ev’ry fearOf death dismiss, and, laying once thy handsOn the firm continent, unbind the zone,Which thou shalt cast far distant from the shore420Into the Deep, turning thy face away.So saying, the Goddess gave into his handThe wond’rous zone, and, cormorant in form,Plunging herself into the waves againHeadlong, was hidden by the closing flood.But still Ulysses sat perplex’d, and thusThe toil-enduring Hero reason’d sad.Alas! I tremble lest some God designT’ ensnare me yet, bidding me quit the raft.But let me well beware how I obey430Too soon that precept, for I saw the landOf my foretold deliv’rance far remote.Thus, therefore, will I do, for such appearsMy wiser course. So long as yet the planksMutual adhere, continuing on boardMy raft, I will endure whatever woes,But when the waves shall shatter it, I will swim,My sole resource then left. While thus he mused,Neptune a billow of enormous bulkHollow’d into an overwhelming arch440On high up-heaving, smote him. As the windTempestuous, falling on some stubble-heap,The arid straws dissipates ev’ry way,So flew the timbers. He, a single beamBestriding, oar’d it onward with his feet,As he had urged an horse. His raiment, then,Gift of Calypso, putting off, he boundHis girdle on, and prone into the seaWith wide-spread palms prepar’d for swimming, fell.Shore-shaker Neptune noted him; he shook450His awful brows, and in his heart he said,Thus, suff’ring many mis’ries roam the flood,Till thou shalt mingle with a race of menHeav’n’s special favourites; yet even thereFear not that thou shalt feel thy sorrows light.He said, and scourging his bright steeds, arrivedAt Ægæ, where his glorious palace stands.But other thoughts Minerva’s mind employ’dJove’s daughter; ev’ry wind binding beside,She lull’d them, and enjoin’d them all to sleep,460But roused swift Boreas, and the billows brokeBefore Ulysses, that, deliver’d safeFrom a dire death, the noble Chief might mixWith maritime Phæacia’s sons renown’d.Two nights he wander’d, and two days, the floodTempestuous, death expecting ev’ry hour;But when Aurora, radiant-hair’d, had broughtThe third day to a close, then ceas’d the wind,And breathless came a calm; he, nigh at handThe shore beheld, darting acute his sight470Toward it, from a billow’s tow’ring top.Precious as to his children seems the lifeOf some fond father through disease long timeAnd pain stretch’d languid on his couch, the preyOf some vindictive Pow’r, but now, at last,By gracious heav’n to ease and health restored,So grateful to Ulysses’ sight appear’dForests and hills. Impatient with his feetTo press the shore, he swam; but when withinSuch distance as a shout may fly, he came,480The thunder of the sea against the rocksThen smote his ear; for hoarse the billows roar’dOn the firm land, belch’d horrible abroad,And the salt spray dimm’d all things to his view.For neither port for ships nor shelt’ring coveWas there, but the rude coast a headland bluffPresented, rocks and craggy masses huge.Then, hope and strength exhausted both, deep-groan’dThe Chief, and in his noble heart complain’d.Alas! though Jove hath given me to behold,490Unhoped, the land again, and I have pass’d,Furrowing my way, these num’rous waves, there seemsNo egress from the hoary flood for me.Sharp stones hem in the waters; wild the surgeRaves ev’ry where; and smooth the rocks arise;Deep also is the shore, on which my feetNo standing gain, or chance of safe escape.What if some billow catch me from the DeepEmerging, and against the pointed rocksDash me conflicting with its force in vain?500But should I, swimming, trace the coast in searchOf sloping beach, haven or shelter’d creek,I fear lest, groaning, I be snatch’d againBy stormy gusts into the fishy Deep,Or lest some monster of the flood receiveCommand to seize me, of the many suchBy the illustrious Amphitrite bred;For that the mighty Shaker of the shoresHates me implacable, too well I know.While such discourse within himself he held,510A huge wave heav’d him on the rugged coast,Where flay’d his flesh had been, and all his bonesBroken together, but for the infusedGood counsel of Minerva azure-eyed.With both hands suddenly he seized the rock,And, groaning, clench’d it till the billow pass’d.So baffled he that wave; but yet againThe refluent flood rush’d on him, and with forceResistless dash’d him far into the sea.As pebbles to the hollow polypus520Extracted from his stony bed, adhere,So he, the rough rocks clasping, stripp’d his handsRaw, and the billows now whelm’d him again.Then had the hapless Hero prematurePerish’d, but for sagacity inspiredBy Pallas azure-eyed. Forth from the wavesEmerging, where the surf burst on the rocks,He coasted (looking landward as he swam)The shore, with hope of port or level beach.But when, still swimming, to the mouth he came530Of a smooth-sliding river, there he deem’dSafest th’ ascent, for it was undeform’dBy rocks, and shelter’d close from ev’ry wind.He felt the current, and thus, ardent, pray’d.O hear, whate’er thy name, Sov’reign, who rul’stThis river! at whose mouth, from all the threatsOf Neptune ’scap’d, with rapture I arrive.Even the Immortal Gods the wand’rer’s pray’rRespect, and such am I, who reach, at length,Thy stream, and clasp thy knees, after long toil.540I am thy suppliant. Oh King! pity me.He said; the river God at once repress’dHis current, and it ceas’d; smooth he preparedThe way before Ulysses, and the landVouchsafed him easy at his channel’s mouth.There, once again he bent for ease his limbsBoth arms and knees, in conflict with the floodsExhausted; swoln his body was all o’er,And from his mouth and nostrils stream’d the brine.Breathless and speechless, and of life well nigh550Bereft he lay, through dreadful toil immense.But when, revived, his dissipated pow’rsHe recollected, loosing from beneathHis breast the zone divine, he cast it farInto the brackish stream, and a huge waveReturning bore it downward to the sea,Where Ino caught it. Then, the river’s brinkAbandoning, among the rushes proneHe lay, kiss’d oft the soil, and sighing, said,Ah me! what suff’rings must I now sustain,560What doom, at last, awaits me? If I watchThis woeful night, here, at the river’s side,What hope but that the frost and copious dews,Weak as I am, my remnant small of lifeShall quite extinguish, and the chilly airBreath’d from the river at the dawn of day?But if, ascending this declivityI gain the woods, and in some thicket sleep,(If sleep indeed can find me overtoil’dAnd cold-benumb’d) then I have cause to fear570Lest I be torn by wild beasts, and devour’d.Long time he mused, but, at the last, his courseBent to the woods, which not remote he sawFrom the sea-brink, conspicuous on a hill.Arrived, between two neighbour shrubs he crept,Both olives, this the fruitful, that the wild;A covert, which nor rough winds blowing moistCould penetrate, nor could the noon-day sunSmite through it, or unceasing show’rs pervade,So thick a roof the ample branches form’d580Close interwoven; under these the ChiefRetiring, with industrious hands a bedCollected broad of leaves, which there he foundAbundant strew’d, such store as had sufficedTwo travellers or three for cov’ring warm,Though winter’s roughest blasts had rag’d the while.That bed with joy the suff’ring Chief renown’dContemplated, and occupying soonThe middle space, hillock’d it high with leaves.As when some swain hath hidden deep his torch590Beneath the embers, at the verge extremeOf all his farm, where, having neighbours none,He saves a seed or two of future flameAlive, doom’d else to fetch it from afar,So with dry leaves Ulysses overspreadHis body, on whose eyes Minerva pour’dThe balm of sleep copious, that he might tasteRepose again, after long toil severe.21The Solymi were the ancient inhabitants of Pisidia in Asia-Minor.22The Translator finding himself free to chuse betweenἀυδηέσσαandἠδηέσσα, has preferred the latter.
Mercury bears to Calypso a command from Jupiter that she dismiss Ulysses. She, after some remonstrances, promises obedience, and furnishes him with instruments and materials, with which he constructs a raft. He quits Calypso’s island; is persecuted by Neptune with dreadful tempests, but by the assistance of a sea nymph, after having lost his raft, is enabled to swim to Phæacia.
Aurora from beside her glorious mateTithonus now arose, light to dispenseThrough earth and heav’n, when the assembled GodsIn council sat, o’er whom high-thund’ring JovePresided, mightiest of the Pow’rs above.Amid them, Pallas on the num’rous woesDescanted of Ulysses, whom she sawWith grief, still prison’d in Calypso’s isle.Jove, Father, hear me, and ye other Pow’rsWho live for ever, hear! Be never King10Henceforth to gracious acts inclined, humane,Or righteous, but let ev’ry sceptred handRule merciless, and deal in wrong alone,Since none of all his people whom he sway’dWith such paternal gentleness and loveRemembers, now, divine Ulysses more.He, in yon distant isle a suff’rer liesOf hopeless sorrow, through constraint the guestStill of the nymph Calypso, without meansOr pow’r to reach his native shores again,20Alike of gallant barks and friends depriv’d,Who might conduct him o’er the spacious Deep.Nor is this all, but enemies combineTo slay his son ere yet he can returnFrom Pylus, whither he hath gone to learnThere, or in Sparta, tidings of his Sire.To whom the cloud-assembler God replied.What word hath pass’d thy lips, daughter belov’d?Hast thou not purpos’d that arriving soonAt home, Ulysses shall destroy his foes?30Guide thou, Telemachus, (for well thou canst)That he may reach secure his native coast,And that the suitors baffled may return.He ceas’d, and thus to Hermes spake, his son.Hermes! (for thou art herald of our willAt all times) to yon bright-hair’d nymph conveyOur fix’d resolve, that brave Ulysses thenceDepart, uncompanied by God or man.Borne on a corded raft, and suff’ring woeExtreme, he on the twentieth day shall reach,40Not sooner, Scherie the deep-soil’d, possess’dBy the Phæacians, kinsmen of the Gods.They, as a God shall reverence the Chief,And in a bark of theirs shall send him thenceTo his own home, much treasure, brass and goldAnd raiment giving him, to an amountSurpassing all that, had he safe return’d,He should by lot have shared of Ilium’s spoil.Thus Fate appoints Ulysses to regainHis country, his own palace, and his friends.50He ended, nor the Argicide refused,Messenger of the skies; his sandals fair,Ambrosial, golden, to his feet he bound,Which o’er the moist wave, rapid as the wind,Bear him, and o’er th’ illimitable earth,Then took his rod with which, at will, all eyesHe closes soft, or opes them wide again.So arm’d, forth flew the valiant Argicide.Alighting on Pieria, down he stoop’dTo Ocean, and the billows lightly skimm’d60In form a sew-mew, such as in the baysTremendous of the barren Deep her foodSeeking, dips oft in brine her ample wing.In such disguise o’er many a wave he rode,But reaching, now, that isle remote, forsookThe azure Deep, and at the spacious grot,Where dwelt the amber-tressed nymph arrived,Found her within. A fire on all the hearthBlazed sprightly, and, afar-diffused, the scentOf smooth-split cedar and of cypress-wood70Odorous, burning, cheer’d the happy isle.She, busied at the loom, and plying fastHer golden shuttle, with melodious voiceSat chaunting there; a grove on either side,Alder and poplar, and the redolent branchWide-spread of Cypress, skirted dark the cave.There many a bird of broadest pinion builtSecure her nest, the owl, the kite, and dawLong-tongued, frequenter of the sandy shores.A garden-vine luxuriant on all sides80Mantled the spacious cavern, cluster-hungProfuse; four fountains of serenest lymphTheir sinuous course pursuing side by side,Stray’d all around, and ev’ry where appear’dMeadows of softest verdure, purpled o’erWith violets; it was a scene to fillA God from heav’n with wonder and delight.Hermes, Heav’n’s messenger, admiring stoodThat sight, and having all survey’d, at lengthEnter’d the grotto; nor the lovely nymph90Him knew not soon as seen, for not unknownEach to the other the Immortals are,How far soever sep’rate their abodes.Yet found he not within the mighty ChiefUlysses; he sat weeping on the shore,Forlorn, for there his custom was with groansOf sad regret t’ afflict his breaking heart.Looking continual o’er the barren Deep.Then thus Calypso, nymph divine, the GodQuestion’d, from her resplendent throne august.100Hermes! possessor of the potent rod!Who, though by me much reverenc’d and belov’d,So seldom com’st, say, wherefore comest now?Speak thy desire; I grant it, if thou askThings possible, and possible to me.Stay not, but ent’ring farther, at my boardDue rites of hospitality receive.So saying, the Goddess with ambrosial foodHer table cover’d, and with rosy juiceNectareous charged the cup. Then ate and drank110The argicide and herald of the skies,And in his soul with that repast divineRefresh’d, his message to the nymph declared.Questionest thou, O Goddess, me a God?I tell thee truth, since such is thy demand.Not willing, but by Jove constrain’d, I come.For who would, voluntary, such a breadthEnormous measure of the salt expanse,Where city none is seen in which the GodsAre served with chosen hecatombs and pray’r?120But no divinity may the designsElude, or controvert, of Jove supreme.He saith, that here thou hold’st the most distrestOf all those warriors who nine years assail’dThe city of Priam, and, (that city sack’d)Departed in the tenth; but, going thence,Offended Pallas, who with adverse windsOpposed their voyage, and with boist’rous waves.Then perish’d all his gallant friends, but himBillows and storms drove hither; Jove commands130That thou dismiss him hence without delay,For fate ordains him not to perish hereFrom all his friends remote, but he is doom’dTo see them yet again, and to arriveAt his own palace in his native land.He said; divine Calypso at the soundShudder’d, and in wing’d accents thus replied.Ye are unjust, ye Gods, and envious pastAll others, grudging if a Goddess takeA mortal man openly to her arms!140So, when the rosy-finger’d Morning choseOrion, though ye live yourselves at ease,Yet ye all envied her, until the chasteDiana from her golden throne dispatch’dA silent shaft, which slew him in Ortygia.So, when the golden-tressed Ceres, urgedBy passion, took Iäsion to her armsIn a thrice-labour’d fallow, not untaughtWas Jove that secret long, and, hearing it,Indignant, slew him with his candent bolt.150So also, O ye Gods, ye envy meThe mortal man, my comfort. Him I savedMyself, while solitary on his keelHe rode, for with his sulph’rous arrow JoveHad cleft his bark amid the sable Deep.Then perish’d all his gallant friends, but himBillows and storms drove hither, whom I lov’dSincere, and fondly destin’d to a lifeImmortal, unobnoxious to decay.But since no Deity may the designs160Elude or controvert of Jove supreme,Hence with him o’er the barren Deep, if suchThe Sov’reign’s will, and such his stern command.But undismiss’d he goes by me, who shipsMyself well-oar’d and mariners have noneTo send with him athwart the spacious flood;Yet freely, readily, my best adviceI will afford him, that, escaping allDanger, he may regain his native shore.Then Hermes thus, the messenger of heav’n.170Act as thou say’st, fearing the frown of Jove,Lest, if provoked, he spare not even thee.So saying, the dauntless Argicide withdrew,And she (Jove’s mandate heard) all-graceful went,Seeking the brave Ulysses; on the shoreShe found him seated; tears succeeding tearsDelug’d his eyes, while, hopeless of return,Life’s precious hours to eating cares he gaveContinual, with the nymph now charm’d no more.Yet, cold as she was am’rous, still he pass’d180His nights beside her in the hollow grot,Constrain’d, and day by day the rocks amongWhich lined the shore heart-broken sat, and oftWhile wistfully he eyed the barren Deep,Wept, groaned, desponded, sigh’d, and wept again.Then, drawing near, thus spake the nymph divine.Unhappy! weep not here, nor life consumeIn anguish; go; thou hast my glad consent.Arise to labour; hewing down the trunksOf lofty trees, fashion them with the ax190To a broad raft, which closely floor’d above,Shall hence convey thee o’er the gloomy Deep.Bread, water, and the red grape’s cheering juiceMyself will put on board, which shall preserveThy life from famine; I will also giveNew raiment for thy limbs, and will dispatchWinds after thee to waft thee home unharm’d,If such the pleasure of the Gods who dwellIn yonder boundless heav’n, superior farTo me, in knowledge and in skill to judge.200She ceas’d; but horror at that sound the heartChill’d of Ulysses, and in accents wing’dWith wonder, thus the noble Chief replied.Ah! other thoughts than of my safe returnEmploy thee, Goddess, now, who bid’st me passThe perilous gulph of Ocean on a raft,That wild expanse terrible, which even shipsPass not, though form’d to cleave their way with ease,And joyful in propitious winds from Jove.No—let me never, in despight of thee,210Embark on board a raft, nor till thou swear,O Goddess! the inviolable oath,That future mischief thou intend’st me none.He said; Calypso, beauteous Goddess, smiled,And, while she spake, stroaking his cheek, replied.Thou dost asperse me rudely, and excuseOf ignorance hast none, far better taught;What words were these? How could’st thou thus reply?Now hear me Earth, and the wide Heav’n above!Hear, too, ye waters of the Stygian stream220Under the earth (by which the blessed GodsSwear trembling, and revere the awful oath!)That future mischief I intend thee none.No, my designs concerning thee are suchAs, in an exigence resembling thine,Myself, most sure, should for myself conceive.I have a mind more equal, not of steelMy heart is form’d, but much to pity inclined.So saying, the lovely Goddess with swift paceLed on, whose footsteps he as swift pursued.230Within the vaulted cavern they arrived,The Goddess and the man; on the same throneUlysses sat, whence Hermes had aris’n,And viands of all kinds, such as sustainThe life of mortal man, Calypso placedBefore him, both for bev’rage and for food.She opposite to the illustrious ChiefReposed, by her attendant maidens servedWith nectar and ambrosia. They their handsStretch’d forth together to the ready feast,240And when nor hunger more nor thirst remain’dUnsated, thus the beauteous nymph began.Laertes’ noble son, for wisdom famedAnd artifice! oh canst thou thus resolveTo seek, incontinent, thy native shores?I pardon thee. Farewell! but could’st thou guessThe woes which fate ordains thee to endureEre yet thou reach thy country, well-contentHere to inhabit, thou would’st keep my grotAnd be immortal, howsoe’er thy wife250Engage thy ev’ry wish day after day.Yet can I not in stature or in formMyself suspect inferior aught to her,Since competition cannot be betweenMere mortal beauties, and a form divine.To whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied.Awful Divinity! be not incensed.I know that my Penelope in formAnd stature altogether yields to thee,For she is mortal, and immortal thou,260From age exempt; yet not the less I wishMy home, and languish daily to return.But should some God amid the sable DeepDash me again into a wreck, my soulShall bearthatalso; for, by practice taught,I have learned patience, having much enduredBy tempest and in battle both. Come thenThis evil also! I am well prepared.He ended, and the sun sinking, resign’dThe earth to darkness. Then in a recess270Interior of the cavern, side by sideReposed, they took their amorous delight.But when Aurora, daughter of the dawn,Look’d rosy forth, Ulysses then in hastePut on his vest and mantle, and, the nymphHer snowy vesture of transparent woof,Graceful, redundant; to her waist she boundHer golden zone, and veil’d her beauteous head,Then, musing, plann’d the noble Chief’s return.She gave him, fitted to the grasp, an ax280Of iron, pond’rous, double-edg’d, with haftOf olive-wood, inserted firm, and wroughtWith curious art. Then, placing in his handA polish’d adze, she led, herself, the wayTo her isles’ utmost verge, where tallest treesBut dry long since and sapless stood, which bestMight serve his purposes, as buoyant most,The alder, poplar, and cloud-piercing fir.To that tall grove she led and left him there,Seeking her grot again. Then slept not He,290But, swinging with both hands the ax, his taskSoon finish’d; trees full twenty to the groundHe cast, which, dext’rous, with his adze he smooth’d,The knotted surface chipping by a line.Meantime the lovely Goddess to his aidSharp augres brought, with which he bored the beams,Then, side by side placing them, fitted eachTo other, and with long cramps join’d them all.Broad as an artist, skill’d in naval works,The bottom of a ship of burthen spreads,300Such breadth Ulysses to his raft assign’d.He deck’d her over with long planks, upborneOn massy beams; He made the mast, to whichHe added suitable the yard;—he framedRudder and helm to regulate her course,With wicker-work he border’d all her lengthFor safety, and much ballast stow’d within.Meantime, Calypso brought him for a sailFittest materials, which he also shaped,And to his sail due furniture annex’d310Of cordage strong, foot-ropes, and ropes aloft,Then heav’d her down with levers to the Deep.He finish’d all his work on the fourth day,And on the fifth, Calypso, nymph divine,Dismiss’d him from her isle, but laved him first,And cloath’d him in sweet-scented garments new.Two skins the Goddess also placed on board,One charg’d with crimson wine, and ampler oneWith water, nor a bag with food repleteForgot, nutritious, grateful to the taste,320Nor yet, her latest gift, a gentle galeAnd manageable, which Ulysses spread,Exulting, all his canvas to receive.Beside the helm he sat, steering expert,Nor sleep fell ever on his eyes that watch’dIntent the Pleiads, tardy in declineBootes, and the Bear, call’d else the Wain,Which, in his polar prison circling, looksDirect toward Orion, and aloneOf these sinks never to the briny Deep.330That star the lovely Goddess bade him holdContinual on his left through all his course.Ten days and sev’n, he, navigating, cleav’dThe brine, and on the eighteenth day, at length,The shadowy mountains of Phæacia’s landDescried, where nearest to his course it layLike a broad buckler on the waves afloat.But Neptune, now returning from the landOf Ethiopia, mark’d him on his raftSkimming the billows, from the mountain-tops340Of distant Solyma.21With tenfold wrathInflamed that sight he view’d, his brows he shook,And thus within himself, indignant, spake.So then—new counsels in the skies, it seems,Propitious to Ulysses, have prevail’dSince Æthiopia hath been my abode.He sees Phæacia nigh, where he must leapThe bound’ry of his woes; but ere that hourArrive, I will ensure him many a groan.So saying, he grasp’d his trident, gather’d dense350The clouds and troubled ocean; ev’ry stormFrom ev’ry point he summon’d, earth and seaDarkening, and the night fell black from heav’n.The East, the South, the heavy-blowing West,And the cold North-wind clear, assail’d at onceHis raft, and heaved on high the billowy flood.All hope, all courage, in that moment, lost,The Hero thus within himself complain’d.Wretch that I am, what destiny at lastAttends me! much I fear the Goddess’ words360All true, which threaten’d me with num’rous illsOn the wide sea, ere I should reach my home.Behold them all fulfill’d! with what a stormJove hangs the heav’ns, and agitates the Deep!The winds combined beat on me. Now I sink!Thrice blest, and more than thrice, Achaia’s sonsAt Ilium slain for the Atridæ’ sake!Ah, would to heav’n that, dying, I had feltThat day the stroke of fate, when me the deadAchilles guarding, with a thousand spears370Troy’s furious host assail’d! Funereal ritesI then had shared, and praise from ev’ry Greek,Whom now the most inglorious death awaits.While thus he spake, a billow on his headBursting impetuous, whirl’d the raft around,And, dashing from his grasp the helm, himselfPlunged far remote. Then came a sudden gustOf mingling winds, that in the middle snapp’dHis mast, and, hurried o’er the waves afar,Both sail and sail-yard fell into the flood.380Long time submerged he lay, nor could with easeThe violence of that dread shock surmount,Or rise to air again, so burthensomeHis drench’d apparel proved; but, at the last,He rose, and, rising, sputter’d from his lipsThe brine that trickled copious from his brows.Nor, harass’d as he was, resign’d he yetHis raft, but buffetting the waves asideWith desp’rate efforts, seized it, and againFast seated on the middle deck, escaped.390Then roll’d the raft at random in the flood,Wallowing unwieldy, toss’d from wave to wave.As when in autumn, Boreas o’er the plainConglomerated thorns before him drives,They, tangled, to each other close adhere,So her the winds drove wild about the Deep.By turns the South consign’d her to be sportFor the rude North-wind, and, by turns, the EastYielded her to the worrying West a prey.But Cadmus’ beauteous daughter (Ino once,400Now named Leucothea) saw him; mortal erstWas she, and trod the earth,22but nymph becomeOf Ocean since, in honours shares divine.She mark’d his anguish, and, while toss’d he roam’d,Pitied Ulysses; from the flood, in formA cormorant, she flew, and on the raftClose-corded perching, thus the Chief address’d.Alas! unhappy! how hast thou incensedSo terribly the Shaker of the shores,That he pursues thee with such num’rous ills?410Sink thee he cannot, wish it as he may.Thus do (for I account thee not unwise)Thy garments putting off, let drive thy raftAs the winds will, then, swimming, strive to reachPhæacia, where thy doom is to escape.Take this. This ribbon bind beneath thy breast,Celestial texture. Thenceforth ev’ry fearOf death dismiss, and, laying once thy handsOn the firm continent, unbind the zone,Which thou shalt cast far distant from the shore420Into the Deep, turning thy face away.So saying, the Goddess gave into his handThe wond’rous zone, and, cormorant in form,Plunging herself into the waves againHeadlong, was hidden by the closing flood.But still Ulysses sat perplex’d, and thusThe toil-enduring Hero reason’d sad.Alas! I tremble lest some God designT’ ensnare me yet, bidding me quit the raft.But let me well beware how I obey430Too soon that precept, for I saw the landOf my foretold deliv’rance far remote.Thus, therefore, will I do, for such appearsMy wiser course. So long as yet the planksMutual adhere, continuing on boardMy raft, I will endure whatever woes,But when the waves shall shatter it, I will swim,My sole resource then left. While thus he mused,Neptune a billow of enormous bulkHollow’d into an overwhelming arch440On high up-heaving, smote him. As the windTempestuous, falling on some stubble-heap,The arid straws dissipates ev’ry way,So flew the timbers. He, a single beamBestriding, oar’d it onward with his feet,As he had urged an horse. His raiment, then,Gift of Calypso, putting off, he boundHis girdle on, and prone into the seaWith wide-spread palms prepar’d for swimming, fell.Shore-shaker Neptune noted him; he shook450His awful brows, and in his heart he said,Thus, suff’ring many mis’ries roam the flood,Till thou shalt mingle with a race of menHeav’n’s special favourites; yet even thereFear not that thou shalt feel thy sorrows light.He said, and scourging his bright steeds, arrivedAt Ægæ, where his glorious palace stands.But other thoughts Minerva’s mind employ’dJove’s daughter; ev’ry wind binding beside,She lull’d them, and enjoin’d them all to sleep,460But roused swift Boreas, and the billows brokeBefore Ulysses, that, deliver’d safeFrom a dire death, the noble Chief might mixWith maritime Phæacia’s sons renown’d.Two nights he wander’d, and two days, the floodTempestuous, death expecting ev’ry hour;But when Aurora, radiant-hair’d, had broughtThe third day to a close, then ceas’d the wind,And breathless came a calm; he, nigh at handThe shore beheld, darting acute his sight470Toward it, from a billow’s tow’ring top.Precious as to his children seems the lifeOf some fond father through disease long timeAnd pain stretch’d languid on his couch, the preyOf some vindictive Pow’r, but now, at last,By gracious heav’n to ease and health restored,So grateful to Ulysses’ sight appear’dForests and hills. Impatient with his feetTo press the shore, he swam; but when withinSuch distance as a shout may fly, he came,480The thunder of the sea against the rocksThen smote his ear; for hoarse the billows roar’dOn the firm land, belch’d horrible abroad,And the salt spray dimm’d all things to his view.For neither port for ships nor shelt’ring coveWas there, but the rude coast a headland bluffPresented, rocks and craggy masses huge.Then, hope and strength exhausted both, deep-groan’dThe Chief, and in his noble heart complain’d.Alas! though Jove hath given me to behold,490Unhoped, the land again, and I have pass’d,Furrowing my way, these num’rous waves, there seemsNo egress from the hoary flood for me.Sharp stones hem in the waters; wild the surgeRaves ev’ry where; and smooth the rocks arise;Deep also is the shore, on which my feetNo standing gain, or chance of safe escape.What if some billow catch me from the DeepEmerging, and against the pointed rocksDash me conflicting with its force in vain?500But should I, swimming, trace the coast in searchOf sloping beach, haven or shelter’d creek,I fear lest, groaning, I be snatch’d againBy stormy gusts into the fishy Deep,Or lest some monster of the flood receiveCommand to seize me, of the many suchBy the illustrious Amphitrite bred;For that the mighty Shaker of the shoresHates me implacable, too well I know.While such discourse within himself he held,510A huge wave heav’d him on the rugged coast,Where flay’d his flesh had been, and all his bonesBroken together, but for the infusedGood counsel of Minerva azure-eyed.With both hands suddenly he seized the rock,And, groaning, clench’d it till the billow pass’d.So baffled he that wave; but yet againThe refluent flood rush’d on him, and with forceResistless dash’d him far into the sea.As pebbles to the hollow polypus520Extracted from his stony bed, adhere,So he, the rough rocks clasping, stripp’d his handsRaw, and the billows now whelm’d him again.Then had the hapless Hero prematurePerish’d, but for sagacity inspiredBy Pallas azure-eyed. Forth from the wavesEmerging, where the surf burst on the rocks,He coasted (looking landward as he swam)The shore, with hope of port or level beach.But when, still swimming, to the mouth he came530Of a smooth-sliding river, there he deem’dSafest th’ ascent, for it was undeform’dBy rocks, and shelter’d close from ev’ry wind.He felt the current, and thus, ardent, pray’d.O hear, whate’er thy name, Sov’reign, who rul’stThis river! at whose mouth, from all the threatsOf Neptune ’scap’d, with rapture I arrive.Even the Immortal Gods the wand’rer’s pray’rRespect, and such am I, who reach, at length,Thy stream, and clasp thy knees, after long toil.540I am thy suppliant. Oh King! pity me.He said; the river God at once repress’dHis current, and it ceas’d; smooth he preparedThe way before Ulysses, and the landVouchsafed him easy at his channel’s mouth.There, once again he bent for ease his limbsBoth arms and knees, in conflict with the floodsExhausted; swoln his body was all o’er,And from his mouth and nostrils stream’d the brine.Breathless and speechless, and of life well nigh550Bereft he lay, through dreadful toil immense.But when, revived, his dissipated pow’rsHe recollected, loosing from beneathHis breast the zone divine, he cast it farInto the brackish stream, and a huge waveReturning bore it downward to the sea,Where Ino caught it. Then, the river’s brinkAbandoning, among the rushes proneHe lay, kiss’d oft the soil, and sighing, said,Ah me! what suff’rings must I now sustain,560What doom, at last, awaits me? If I watchThis woeful night, here, at the river’s side,What hope but that the frost and copious dews,Weak as I am, my remnant small of lifeShall quite extinguish, and the chilly airBreath’d from the river at the dawn of day?But if, ascending this declivityI gain the woods, and in some thicket sleep,(If sleep indeed can find me overtoil’dAnd cold-benumb’d) then I have cause to fear570Lest I be torn by wild beasts, and devour’d.Long time he mused, but, at the last, his courseBent to the woods, which not remote he sawFrom the sea-brink, conspicuous on a hill.Arrived, between two neighbour shrubs he crept,Both olives, this the fruitful, that the wild;A covert, which nor rough winds blowing moistCould penetrate, nor could the noon-day sunSmite through it, or unceasing show’rs pervade,So thick a roof the ample branches form’d580Close interwoven; under these the ChiefRetiring, with industrious hands a bedCollected broad of leaves, which there he foundAbundant strew’d, such store as had sufficedTwo travellers or three for cov’ring warm,Though winter’s roughest blasts had rag’d the while.That bed with joy the suff’ring Chief renown’dContemplated, and occupying soonThe middle space, hillock’d it high with leaves.As when some swain hath hidden deep his torch590Beneath the embers, at the verge extremeOf all his farm, where, having neighbours none,He saves a seed or two of future flameAlive, doom’d else to fetch it from afar,So with dry leaves Ulysses overspreadHis body, on whose eyes Minerva pour’dThe balm of sleep copious, that he might tasteRepose again, after long toil severe.
Aurora from beside her glorious mateTithonus now arose, light to dispenseThrough earth and heav’n, when the assembled GodsIn council sat, o’er whom high-thund’ring JovePresided, mightiest of the Pow’rs above.Amid them, Pallas on the num’rous woesDescanted of Ulysses, whom she sawWith grief, still prison’d in Calypso’s isle.Jove, Father, hear me, and ye other Pow’rsWho live for ever, hear! Be never King10Henceforth to gracious acts inclined, humane,Or righteous, but let ev’ry sceptred handRule merciless, and deal in wrong alone,Since none of all his people whom he sway’dWith such paternal gentleness and loveRemembers, now, divine Ulysses more.He, in yon distant isle a suff’rer liesOf hopeless sorrow, through constraint the guestStill of the nymph Calypso, without meansOr pow’r to reach his native shores again,20Alike of gallant barks and friends depriv’d,Who might conduct him o’er the spacious Deep.Nor is this all, but enemies combineTo slay his son ere yet he can returnFrom Pylus, whither he hath gone to learnThere, or in Sparta, tidings of his Sire.To whom the cloud-assembler God replied.What word hath pass’d thy lips, daughter belov’d?Hast thou not purpos’d that arriving soonAt home, Ulysses shall destroy his foes?30Guide thou, Telemachus, (for well thou canst)That he may reach secure his native coast,And that the suitors baffled may return.He ceas’d, and thus to Hermes spake, his son.Hermes! (for thou art herald of our willAt all times) to yon bright-hair’d nymph conveyOur fix’d resolve, that brave Ulysses thenceDepart, uncompanied by God or man.Borne on a corded raft, and suff’ring woeExtreme, he on the twentieth day shall reach,40Not sooner, Scherie the deep-soil’d, possess’dBy the Phæacians, kinsmen of the Gods.They, as a God shall reverence the Chief,And in a bark of theirs shall send him thenceTo his own home, much treasure, brass and goldAnd raiment giving him, to an amountSurpassing all that, had he safe return’d,He should by lot have shared of Ilium’s spoil.Thus Fate appoints Ulysses to regainHis country, his own palace, and his friends.50He ended, nor the Argicide refused,Messenger of the skies; his sandals fair,Ambrosial, golden, to his feet he bound,Which o’er the moist wave, rapid as the wind,Bear him, and o’er th’ illimitable earth,Then took his rod with which, at will, all eyesHe closes soft, or opes them wide again.So arm’d, forth flew the valiant Argicide.Alighting on Pieria, down he stoop’dTo Ocean, and the billows lightly skimm’d60In form a sew-mew, such as in the baysTremendous of the barren Deep her foodSeeking, dips oft in brine her ample wing.In such disguise o’er many a wave he rode,But reaching, now, that isle remote, forsookThe azure Deep, and at the spacious grot,Where dwelt the amber-tressed nymph arrived,Found her within. A fire on all the hearthBlazed sprightly, and, afar-diffused, the scentOf smooth-split cedar and of cypress-wood70Odorous, burning, cheer’d the happy isle.She, busied at the loom, and plying fastHer golden shuttle, with melodious voiceSat chaunting there; a grove on either side,Alder and poplar, and the redolent branchWide-spread of Cypress, skirted dark the cave.There many a bird of broadest pinion builtSecure her nest, the owl, the kite, and dawLong-tongued, frequenter of the sandy shores.A garden-vine luxuriant on all sides80Mantled the spacious cavern, cluster-hungProfuse; four fountains of serenest lymphTheir sinuous course pursuing side by side,Stray’d all around, and ev’ry where appear’dMeadows of softest verdure, purpled o’erWith violets; it was a scene to fillA God from heav’n with wonder and delight.Hermes, Heav’n’s messenger, admiring stoodThat sight, and having all survey’d, at lengthEnter’d the grotto; nor the lovely nymph90Him knew not soon as seen, for not unknownEach to the other the Immortals are,How far soever sep’rate their abodes.Yet found he not within the mighty ChiefUlysses; he sat weeping on the shore,Forlorn, for there his custom was with groansOf sad regret t’ afflict his breaking heart.Looking continual o’er the barren Deep.Then thus Calypso, nymph divine, the GodQuestion’d, from her resplendent throne august.100Hermes! possessor of the potent rod!Who, though by me much reverenc’d and belov’d,So seldom com’st, say, wherefore comest now?Speak thy desire; I grant it, if thou askThings possible, and possible to me.Stay not, but ent’ring farther, at my boardDue rites of hospitality receive.So saying, the Goddess with ambrosial foodHer table cover’d, and with rosy juiceNectareous charged the cup. Then ate and drank110The argicide and herald of the skies,And in his soul with that repast divineRefresh’d, his message to the nymph declared.Questionest thou, O Goddess, me a God?I tell thee truth, since such is thy demand.Not willing, but by Jove constrain’d, I come.For who would, voluntary, such a breadthEnormous measure of the salt expanse,Where city none is seen in which the GodsAre served with chosen hecatombs and pray’r?120But no divinity may the designsElude, or controvert, of Jove supreme.He saith, that here thou hold’st the most distrestOf all those warriors who nine years assail’dThe city of Priam, and, (that city sack’d)Departed in the tenth; but, going thence,Offended Pallas, who with adverse windsOpposed their voyage, and with boist’rous waves.Then perish’d all his gallant friends, but himBillows and storms drove hither; Jove commands130That thou dismiss him hence without delay,For fate ordains him not to perish hereFrom all his friends remote, but he is doom’dTo see them yet again, and to arriveAt his own palace in his native land.He said; divine Calypso at the soundShudder’d, and in wing’d accents thus replied.Ye are unjust, ye Gods, and envious pastAll others, grudging if a Goddess takeA mortal man openly to her arms!140So, when the rosy-finger’d Morning choseOrion, though ye live yourselves at ease,Yet ye all envied her, until the chasteDiana from her golden throne dispatch’dA silent shaft, which slew him in Ortygia.So, when the golden-tressed Ceres, urgedBy passion, took Iäsion to her armsIn a thrice-labour’d fallow, not untaughtWas Jove that secret long, and, hearing it,Indignant, slew him with his candent bolt.150So also, O ye Gods, ye envy meThe mortal man, my comfort. Him I savedMyself, while solitary on his keelHe rode, for with his sulph’rous arrow JoveHad cleft his bark amid the sable Deep.Then perish’d all his gallant friends, but himBillows and storms drove hither, whom I lov’dSincere, and fondly destin’d to a lifeImmortal, unobnoxious to decay.But since no Deity may the designs160Elude or controvert of Jove supreme,Hence with him o’er the barren Deep, if suchThe Sov’reign’s will, and such his stern command.But undismiss’d he goes by me, who shipsMyself well-oar’d and mariners have noneTo send with him athwart the spacious flood;Yet freely, readily, my best adviceI will afford him, that, escaping allDanger, he may regain his native shore.Then Hermes thus, the messenger of heav’n.170Act as thou say’st, fearing the frown of Jove,Lest, if provoked, he spare not even thee.So saying, the dauntless Argicide withdrew,And she (Jove’s mandate heard) all-graceful went,Seeking the brave Ulysses; on the shoreShe found him seated; tears succeeding tearsDelug’d his eyes, while, hopeless of return,Life’s precious hours to eating cares he gaveContinual, with the nymph now charm’d no more.Yet, cold as she was am’rous, still he pass’d180His nights beside her in the hollow grot,Constrain’d, and day by day the rocks amongWhich lined the shore heart-broken sat, and oftWhile wistfully he eyed the barren Deep,Wept, groaned, desponded, sigh’d, and wept again.Then, drawing near, thus spake the nymph divine.Unhappy! weep not here, nor life consumeIn anguish; go; thou hast my glad consent.Arise to labour; hewing down the trunksOf lofty trees, fashion them with the ax190To a broad raft, which closely floor’d above,Shall hence convey thee o’er the gloomy Deep.Bread, water, and the red grape’s cheering juiceMyself will put on board, which shall preserveThy life from famine; I will also giveNew raiment for thy limbs, and will dispatchWinds after thee to waft thee home unharm’d,If such the pleasure of the Gods who dwellIn yonder boundless heav’n, superior farTo me, in knowledge and in skill to judge.200She ceas’d; but horror at that sound the heartChill’d of Ulysses, and in accents wing’dWith wonder, thus the noble Chief replied.Ah! other thoughts than of my safe returnEmploy thee, Goddess, now, who bid’st me passThe perilous gulph of Ocean on a raft,That wild expanse terrible, which even shipsPass not, though form’d to cleave their way with ease,And joyful in propitious winds from Jove.No—let me never, in despight of thee,210Embark on board a raft, nor till thou swear,O Goddess! the inviolable oath,That future mischief thou intend’st me none.He said; Calypso, beauteous Goddess, smiled,And, while she spake, stroaking his cheek, replied.Thou dost asperse me rudely, and excuseOf ignorance hast none, far better taught;What words were these? How could’st thou thus reply?Now hear me Earth, and the wide Heav’n above!Hear, too, ye waters of the Stygian stream220Under the earth (by which the blessed GodsSwear trembling, and revere the awful oath!)That future mischief I intend thee none.No, my designs concerning thee are suchAs, in an exigence resembling thine,Myself, most sure, should for myself conceive.I have a mind more equal, not of steelMy heart is form’d, but much to pity inclined.So saying, the lovely Goddess with swift paceLed on, whose footsteps he as swift pursued.230Within the vaulted cavern they arrived,The Goddess and the man; on the same throneUlysses sat, whence Hermes had aris’n,And viands of all kinds, such as sustainThe life of mortal man, Calypso placedBefore him, both for bev’rage and for food.She opposite to the illustrious ChiefReposed, by her attendant maidens servedWith nectar and ambrosia. They their handsStretch’d forth together to the ready feast,240And when nor hunger more nor thirst remain’dUnsated, thus the beauteous nymph began.Laertes’ noble son, for wisdom famedAnd artifice! oh canst thou thus resolveTo seek, incontinent, thy native shores?I pardon thee. Farewell! but could’st thou guessThe woes which fate ordains thee to endureEre yet thou reach thy country, well-contentHere to inhabit, thou would’st keep my grotAnd be immortal, howsoe’er thy wife250Engage thy ev’ry wish day after day.Yet can I not in stature or in formMyself suspect inferior aught to her,Since competition cannot be betweenMere mortal beauties, and a form divine.To whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied.Awful Divinity! be not incensed.I know that my Penelope in formAnd stature altogether yields to thee,For she is mortal, and immortal thou,260From age exempt; yet not the less I wishMy home, and languish daily to return.But should some God amid the sable DeepDash me again into a wreck, my soulShall bearthatalso; for, by practice taught,I have learned patience, having much enduredBy tempest and in battle both. Come thenThis evil also! I am well prepared.He ended, and the sun sinking, resign’dThe earth to darkness. Then in a recess270Interior of the cavern, side by sideReposed, they took their amorous delight.But when Aurora, daughter of the dawn,Look’d rosy forth, Ulysses then in hastePut on his vest and mantle, and, the nymphHer snowy vesture of transparent woof,Graceful, redundant; to her waist she boundHer golden zone, and veil’d her beauteous head,Then, musing, plann’d the noble Chief’s return.She gave him, fitted to the grasp, an ax280Of iron, pond’rous, double-edg’d, with haftOf olive-wood, inserted firm, and wroughtWith curious art. Then, placing in his handA polish’d adze, she led, herself, the wayTo her isles’ utmost verge, where tallest treesBut dry long since and sapless stood, which bestMight serve his purposes, as buoyant most,The alder, poplar, and cloud-piercing fir.To that tall grove she led and left him there,Seeking her grot again. Then slept not He,290But, swinging with both hands the ax, his taskSoon finish’d; trees full twenty to the groundHe cast, which, dext’rous, with his adze he smooth’d,The knotted surface chipping by a line.Meantime the lovely Goddess to his aidSharp augres brought, with which he bored the beams,Then, side by side placing them, fitted eachTo other, and with long cramps join’d them all.Broad as an artist, skill’d in naval works,The bottom of a ship of burthen spreads,300Such breadth Ulysses to his raft assign’d.He deck’d her over with long planks, upborneOn massy beams; He made the mast, to whichHe added suitable the yard;—he framedRudder and helm to regulate her course,With wicker-work he border’d all her lengthFor safety, and much ballast stow’d within.Meantime, Calypso brought him for a sailFittest materials, which he also shaped,And to his sail due furniture annex’d310Of cordage strong, foot-ropes, and ropes aloft,Then heav’d her down with levers to the Deep.He finish’d all his work on the fourth day,And on the fifth, Calypso, nymph divine,Dismiss’d him from her isle, but laved him first,And cloath’d him in sweet-scented garments new.Two skins the Goddess also placed on board,One charg’d with crimson wine, and ampler oneWith water, nor a bag with food repleteForgot, nutritious, grateful to the taste,320Nor yet, her latest gift, a gentle galeAnd manageable, which Ulysses spread,Exulting, all his canvas to receive.Beside the helm he sat, steering expert,Nor sleep fell ever on his eyes that watch’dIntent the Pleiads, tardy in declineBootes, and the Bear, call’d else the Wain,Which, in his polar prison circling, looksDirect toward Orion, and aloneOf these sinks never to the briny Deep.330That star the lovely Goddess bade him holdContinual on his left through all his course.Ten days and sev’n, he, navigating, cleav’dThe brine, and on the eighteenth day, at length,The shadowy mountains of Phæacia’s landDescried, where nearest to his course it layLike a broad buckler on the waves afloat.But Neptune, now returning from the landOf Ethiopia, mark’d him on his raftSkimming the billows, from the mountain-tops340Of distant Solyma.21With tenfold wrathInflamed that sight he view’d, his brows he shook,And thus within himself, indignant, spake.So then—new counsels in the skies, it seems,Propitious to Ulysses, have prevail’dSince Æthiopia hath been my abode.He sees Phæacia nigh, where he must leapThe bound’ry of his woes; but ere that hourArrive, I will ensure him many a groan.So saying, he grasp’d his trident, gather’d dense350The clouds and troubled ocean; ev’ry stormFrom ev’ry point he summon’d, earth and seaDarkening, and the night fell black from heav’n.The East, the South, the heavy-blowing West,And the cold North-wind clear, assail’d at onceHis raft, and heaved on high the billowy flood.All hope, all courage, in that moment, lost,The Hero thus within himself complain’d.Wretch that I am, what destiny at lastAttends me! much I fear the Goddess’ words360All true, which threaten’d me with num’rous illsOn the wide sea, ere I should reach my home.Behold them all fulfill’d! with what a stormJove hangs the heav’ns, and agitates the Deep!The winds combined beat on me. Now I sink!Thrice blest, and more than thrice, Achaia’s sonsAt Ilium slain for the Atridæ’ sake!Ah, would to heav’n that, dying, I had feltThat day the stroke of fate, when me the deadAchilles guarding, with a thousand spears370Troy’s furious host assail’d! Funereal ritesI then had shared, and praise from ev’ry Greek,Whom now the most inglorious death awaits.While thus he spake, a billow on his headBursting impetuous, whirl’d the raft around,And, dashing from his grasp the helm, himselfPlunged far remote. Then came a sudden gustOf mingling winds, that in the middle snapp’dHis mast, and, hurried o’er the waves afar,Both sail and sail-yard fell into the flood.380Long time submerged he lay, nor could with easeThe violence of that dread shock surmount,Or rise to air again, so burthensomeHis drench’d apparel proved; but, at the last,He rose, and, rising, sputter’d from his lipsThe brine that trickled copious from his brows.Nor, harass’d as he was, resign’d he yetHis raft, but buffetting the waves asideWith desp’rate efforts, seized it, and againFast seated on the middle deck, escaped.390Then roll’d the raft at random in the flood,Wallowing unwieldy, toss’d from wave to wave.As when in autumn, Boreas o’er the plainConglomerated thorns before him drives,They, tangled, to each other close adhere,So her the winds drove wild about the Deep.By turns the South consign’d her to be sportFor the rude North-wind, and, by turns, the EastYielded her to the worrying West a prey.But Cadmus’ beauteous daughter (Ino once,400Now named Leucothea) saw him; mortal erstWas she, and trod the earth,22but nymph becomeOf Ocean since, in honours shares divine.She mark’d his anguish, and, while toss’d he roam’d,Pitied Ulysses; from the flood, in formA cormorant, she flew, and on the raftClose-corded perching, thus the Chief address’d.Alas! unhappy! how hast thou incensedSo terribly the Shaker of the shores,That he pursues thee with such num’rous ills?410Sink thee he cannot, wish it as he may.Thus do (for I account thee not unwise)Thy garments putting off, let drive thy raftAs the winds will, then, swimming, strive to reachPhæacia, where thy doom is to escape.Take this. This ribbon bind beneath thy breast,Celestial texture. Thenceforth ev’ry fearOf death dismiss, and, laying once thy handsOn the firm continent, unbind the zone,Which thou shalt cast far distant from the shore420Into the Deep, turning thy face away.So saying, the Goddess gave into his handThe wond’rous zone, and, cormorant in form,Plunging herself into the waves againHeadlong, was hidden by the closing flood.But still Ulysses sat perplex’d, and thusThe toil-enduring Hero reason’d sad.Alas! I tremble lest some God designT’ ensnare me yet, bidding me quit the raft.But let me well beware how I obey430Too soon that precept, for I saw the landOf my foretold deliv’rance far remote.Thus, therefore, will I do, for such appearsMy wiser course. So long as yet the planksMutual adhere, continuing on boardMy raft, I will endure whatever woes,But when the waves shall shatter it, I will swim,My sole resource then left. While thus he mused,Neptune a billow of enormous bulkHollow’d into an overwhelming arch440On high up-heaving, smote him. As the windTempestuous, falling on some stubble-heap,The arid straws dissipates ev’ry way,So flew the timbers. He, a single beamBestriding, oar’d it onward with his feet,As he had urged an horse. His raiment, then,Gift of Calypso, putting off, he boundHis girdle on, and prone into the seaWith wide-spread palms prepar’d for swimming, fell.Shore-shaker Neptune noted him; he shook450His awful brows, and in his heart he said,Thus, suff’ring many mis’ries roam the flood,Till thou shalt mingle with a race of menHeav’n’s special favourites; yet even thereFear not that thou shalt feel thy sorrows light.He said, and scourging his bright steeds, arrivedAt Ægæ, where his glorious palace stands.But other thoughts Minerva’s mind employ’dJove’s daughter; ev’ry wind binding beside,She lull’d them, and enjoin’d them all to sleep,460But roused swift Boreas, and the billows brokeBefore Ulysses, that, deliver’d safeFrom a dire death, the noble Chief might mixWith maritime Phæacia’s sons renown’d.Two nights he wander’d, and two days, the floodTempestuous, death expecting ev’ry hour;But when Aurora, radiant-hair’d, had broughtThe third day to a close, then ceas’d the wind,And breathless came a calm; he, nigh at handThe shore beheld, darting acute his sight470Toward it, from a billow’s tow’ring top.Precious as to his children seems the lifeOf some fond father through disease long timeAnd pain stretch’d languid on his couch, the preyOf some vindictive Pow’r, but now, at last,By gracious heav’n to ease and health restored,So grateful to Ulysses’ sight appear’dForests and hills. Impatient with his feetTo press the shore, he swam; but when withinSuch distance as a shout may fly, he came,480The thunder of the sea against the rocksThen smote his ear; for hoarse the billows roar’dOn the firm land, belch’d horrible abroad,And the salt spray dimm’d all things to his view.For neither port for ships nor shelt’ring coveWas there, but the rude coast a headland bluffPresented, rocks and craggy masses huge.Then, hope and strength exhausted both, deep-groan’dThe Chief, and in his noble heart complain’d.Alas! though Jove hath given me to behold,490Unhoped, the land again, and I have pass’d,Furrowing my way, these num’rous waves, there seemsNo egress from the hoary flood for me.Sharp stones hem in the waters; wild the surgeRaves ev’ry where; and smooth the rocks arise;Deep also is the shore, on which my feetNo standing gain, or chance of safe escape.What if some billow catch me from the DeepEmerging, and against the pointed rocksDash me conflicting with its force in vain?500But should I, swimming, trace the coast in searchOf sloping beach, haven or shelter’d creek,I fear lest, groaning, I be snatch’d againBy stormy gusts into the fishy Deep,Or lest some monster of the flood receiveCommand to seize me, of the many suchBy the illustrious Amphitrite bred;For that the mighty Shaker of the shoresHates me implacable, too well I know.While such discourse within himself he held,510A huge wave heav’d him on the rugged coast,Where flay’d his flesh had been, and all his bonesBroken together, but for the infusedGood counsel of Minerva azure-eyed.With both hands suddenly he seized the rock,And, groaning, clench’d it till the billow pass’d.So baffled he that wave; but yet againThe refluent flood rush’d on him, and with forceResistless dash’d him far into the sea.As pebbles to the hollow polypus520Extracted from his stony bed, adhere,So he, the rough rocks clasping, stripp’d his handsRaw, and the billows now whelm’d him again.Then had the hapless Hero prematurePerish’d, but for sagacity inspiredBy Pallas azure-eyed. Forth from the wavesEmerging, where the surf burst on the rocks,He coasted (looking landward as he swam)The shore, with hope of port or level beach.But when, still swimming, to the mouth he came530Of a smooth-sliding river, there he deem’dSafest th’ ascent, for it was undeform’dBy rocks, and shelter’d close from ev’ry wind.He felt the current, and thus, ardent, pray’d.O hear, whate’er thy name, Sov’reign, who rul’stThis river! at whose mouth, from all the threatsOf Neptune ’scap’d, with rapture I arrive.Even the Immortal Gods the wand’rer’s pray’rRespect, and such am I, who reach, at length,Thy stream, and clasp thy knees, after long toil.540I am thy suppliant. Oh King! pity me.He said; the river God at once repress’dHis current, and it ceas’d; smooth he preparedThe way before Ulysses, and the landVouchsafed him easy at his channel’s mouth.There, once again he bent for ease his limbsBoth arms and knees, in conflict with the floodsExhausted; swoln his body was all o’er,And from his mouth and nostrils stream’d the brine.Breathless and speechless, and of life well nigh550Bereft he lay, through dreadful toil immense.But when, revived, his dissipated pow’rsHe recollected, loosing from beneathHis breast the zone divine, he cast it farInto the brackish stream, and a huge waveReturning bore it downward to the sea,Where Ino caught it. Then, the river’s brinkAbandoning, among the rushes proneHe lay, kiss’d oft the soil, and sighing, said,Ah me! what suff’rings must I now sustain,560What doom, at last, awaits me? If I watchThis woeful night, here, at the river’s side,What hope but that the frost and copious dews,Weak as I am, my remnant small of lifeShall quite extinguish, and the chilly airBreath’d from the river at the dawn of day?But if, ascending this declivityI gain the woods, and in some thicket sleep,(If sleep indeed can find me overtoil’dAnd cold-benumb’d) then I have cause to fear570Lest I be torn by wild beasts, and devour’d.Long time he mused, but, at the last, his courseBent to the woods, which not remote he sawFrom the sea-brink, conspicuous on a hill.Arrived, between two neighbour shrubs he crept,Both olives, this the fruitful, that the wild;A covert, which nor rough winds blowing moistCould penetrate, nor could the noon-day sunSmite through it, or unceasing show’rs pervade,So thick a roof the ample branches form’d580Close interwoven; under these the ChiefRetiring, with industrious hands a bedCollected broad of leaves, which there he foundAbundant strew’d, such store as had sufficedTwo travellers or three for cov’ring warm,Though winter’s roughest blasts had rag’d the while.That bed with joy the suff’ring Chief renown’dContemplated, and occupying soonThe middle space, hillock’d it high with leaves.As when some swain hath hidden deep his torch590Beneath the embers, at the verge extremeOf all his farm, where, having neighbours none,He saves a seed or two of future flameAlive, doom’d else to fetch it from afar,So with dry leaves Ulysses overspreadHis body, on whose eyes Minerva pour’dThe balm of sleep copious, that he might tasteRepose again, after long toil severe.
21The Solymi were the ancient inhabitants of Pisidia in Asia-Minor.22The Translator finding himself free to chuse betweenἀυδηέσσαandἠδηέσσα, has preferred the latter.
21The Solymi were the ancient inhabitants of Pisidia in Asia-Minor.
21The Solymi were the ancient inhabitants of Pisidia in Asia-Minor.
22The Translator finding himself free to chuse betweenἀυδηέσσαandἠδηέσσα, has preferred the latter.
22The Translator finding himself free to chuse betweenἀυδηέσσαandἠδηέσσα, has preferred the latter.