Homer

“ Ye gods (he cried) , upon what barren coast, In what new region, is Ulysses toss’d? Possess’d by wild barbarians, fierce in arms? Or men whose bosom tender pity warms? Where shall this treasure now in safely lie? And whither, whither its sad owner fly? Ah, why did I Alcinous’ grace implore? Ah, why forsake Phæacia’s happy shore? Some juster prince perhaps had entertain’d, And safe restored me to my native land. Is this the promised, long-expected coast, And this the faith Phæacia’s rulers boast? O righteous gods! of all the great, how few Are just to Heaven, and to their promise true! ”

“ Meantime Telemachus, the blooming heir Of sea-girt Ithaca, demands my care; ’Tis mine to form his green, unpractised years In sage debates; surrounded with his peers, To save the state, and timely to restrain The bold intrusion of the suitor-train; Who crowd his palace, and with lawless power His herds and flocks in feastful rites devour. To distant Sparta, and the spacious waste Of Sandy Pyle, the royal youth shall haste. There, warm with filial love, the cause inquire That from his realm retards his god-like sire; Delivering early to the voice of fame The promise of a green immortal name. ”

“ My queen, my consort! through a length of years We drank the cup of sorrow mix’d with tears; Thou, for thy lord; while me the immortal powers Detain’d reluctant from my native shores. Now, bless’d again by Heaven, the queen display, And rule our palace with an equal sway. Be it my care, by loans, or martial toils, To throng my empty folds with gifts or spoils. But now I haste to bless Laertes’ eyes With sight of his Ulysses ere he dies; The good old man, to wasting woes a prey, Weeps a sad life in solitude away. ”

“ Against Ulysses shall thy anger rise? Loved and adored, O goddess as thou art, Forgive the weakness of a human heart. Though well I see thy graces far above The dear, though mortal, object of my love, Of youth eternal well the difference know, And the short date of fading charms below; Yet every day, while absent thus I roam, I languish to return and die at home. Whate’er the gods shall destine me to bear; In the black ocean or the watery war, ’Tis mine to master with a constant mind; Inured to perils, to the worst resign’d, By seas, by wars, so many dangers run ”

“ Who calls, from distant nations to his own, The poor, distinguish’d by their wants alone? Round the wide world are sought those men divine Who public structures raise, or who design; Those to whose eyes the gods their ways reveal, Or bless with salutary arts to heal; But chief to poets such respect belongs, By rival nations courted for their songs; These states invite, and mighty kings admire, Wide as the sun displays his vital fire. It is not so with want! how few that feed A wretch unhappy, merely for his need! Unjust to me, and all that serve the state, To love Ulysses is to raise thy hate. ”

“ Ulysses comes! the suitors are no more! No more they view the golden light of day! Arise, and bless thee with the glad survey?”
Touch’d at her words, the mournful queen rejoin’d: “Ah! whither wanders thy distemper’d mind? The righteous powers, who tread the starry skies, The weak enlighten, and confound the wise, And human thought, with unresisted sway, Depress or raise, enlarge or take away: Truth, by their high decree, thy voice forsakes, And folly with the tongue of wisdom speaks. Unkind, the fond illusion to impose! Was it to flatter or deride my woes? ”

“ Without retinue, to that friendly shore Welcomed with gifts of price, a sumless store! His sacrilegious train, who dared to prey On herds devoted to the god of day, Were doom’d by Jove, and Phœbus’ just decree, To perish in the rough Trinacrian sea. To better fate the blameless chief ordain’d, A floating fragment of the wreck regain’d, And rode the storm; till, by the billows toss’d, He landed on the fair Phæacian coast. That race who emulate the life of gods, Receive him joyous to their bless’d abodes; Large gifts confer, a ready sail command, To speed his voyage to the Grecian strand. ”

“ Is not thy thought my own? (the god replies Who rolls the thunder o’er the vaulted skies;) Hath not long since thy knowing soul decreed The chief’s return should make the guilty bleed. ’Tis done, and at thy will the Fates succeed. Yet hear the issue: Since Ulysses’ hand Has slain the suitors, Heaven shall bless the land. None now the kindred of the unjust shall own; Forgot the slaughter’d brother and the son: Each future day increase of wealth shall bring, And o’er the past Oblivion stretch her wing. Long shall Ulysses in his empire rest, His people blessing, by his people bless’d. ”

“ Cold in the tomb, or in the deeps below, Ulysses lies; oh wert thou laid as low! Then would that busy head no broils suggest, For fire to rage Telemachus’ breast, From him some bribe thy venal tongue requires, And interest, not the god, thy voice inspires. His guideless youth, if thy experienced age Mislead fallacious into idle rage, Vengeance deserved thy malice shall repress. And but augment the wrongs thou would’st redress, Telemachus may bid the queen repair To great Icarius, whose paternal care Will guide her passion, and reward her choice With wealthy dower, and bridal gifts of price. ”

“ With that superior attribute control This unavailing impotence of soul, Let not your roof with echoing grief resound, Now for the feast the friendly bowl is crown’d; But when, from dewy shade emerging bright, Aurora streaks the sky with orient light, Let each deplore his dead; the rites of woe Are all, alas! the living can bestow; O’er the congenial dust enjoin’d to shear The graceful curl, and drop the tender tear. Then, mingling in the mournful pomp with you, I’ll pay my brother’s ghost a warrior’s due, And mourn the brave Antilochus, a name Not unrecorded in the rolls of fame ”

“ Arrived, before the lofty gates I stay’d; The lofty gates the goddess wide display’d; She leads before, and to the feast invites; I follow sadly to the magic rites. Radiant with starry studs, a silver seat Received my limbs: a footstool eased my feet, She mix’d the potion, fraudulent of soul; The poison mantled in the golden bowl. I took, and quaff’d it, confident in heaven. Then waved the wand, and then the word was given. ‘Hence to thy fellows! (dreadful she began:) Go, be a beast!’—I heard, and yet was man. ”

“ Then bade his followers to the feast prepare. A victim ox beneath the sacred hand Of great Alcinous falls, and stains the sand. To Jove the Eternal (power above all powers! Who wings the winds, and darkens heaven with showers) The flames ascend: till evening they prolong The rites, more sacred made by heavenly song; For in the midst, with public honours graced, Thy lyre divine, Demodocus! was placed. All, but Ulysses, heard with fix’d delight; He sate, and eyed the sun, and wish’d the night; Slow seem’d the sun to move, the hours to roll, His native home deep-imaged in his soul. ”

“ But strength of youth, or valour of the brave, With nobler contest ne’er renown’d a grave. Such were the games by azure Thetis given, And such thy honours, O beloved of Heaven! Dear to mankind thy fame survives, nor fades Its bloom eternal in the Stygian shades. But what to me avail my honours gone, Successful toils, and battles bravely won? Doom’d by stern Jove at home to end my life, By cursed Ægysthus, and a faithless wife!” Thus they: while Hermes o’er the dreary plain Led the sad numbers by Ulysses slain. On each majestic form they cast a view, And timorous pass’d, and awfully withdrew. ”

“ Now flying Fame the swift report had spread Through all the city, of the suitors dead, In throngs they rise, and to the palace crowd; Their sighs were many and the tumult loud. Weeping they bear the mangled heaps of slain; Inhume the natives in their native plain, The rest in ships are wafted o’er the main. Then sad in council all the seniors sate, Frequent and full, assembled to debate: Amid the circle first Eupithes rose, Big was his eye with tears, his heart with woes: The bold Antinous was his age’s pride, The first who by Ulysses’ arrow died. ”

“ What will the suitors? must my servant-train The allotted labours of the day refrain, For them to form some exquisite repast? Heaven grant this festival may prove their last! Or, if they still must live, from me remove The double plague of luxury and love! Forbear, ye sons of insolence! forbear, In riot to consume a wretched heir. In the young soul illustrious thought to raise, Were ye not tutor’d with Ulysses’ praise? Have not your fathers oft my lord defined, Gentle of speech, beneficent of mind? Some kings with arbitrary rage devour, Or in their tyrant-minions vest the power ”

“ Goddess of wisdom! (Ithacus replies,) He who discerns thee must be truly wise, So seldom view’d and ever in disguise! When the bold Argives led their warring powers, Against proud Ilion’s well-defended towers, Ulysses was thy care, celestial maid! Graced with thy sight, and favoured with thy aid. But when the Trojan piles in ashes lay, And bound for Greece we plough’d the watery way; Our fleet dispersed, and driven from coast to coast, Thy sacred presence from that hour I lost; Till I beheld thy radiant form once more, And heard thy counsels on Phæacia’s shore. ”

“ It never was our guise To slight the poor, or aught humane despise: For Jove unfolds our hospitable door, ’Tis Jove that sends the stranger and the poor, Little, alas! is all the good I can A man oppress’d, dependent, yet a man: Accept such treatment as a swain affords, Slave to the insolence of youthful lords! Far hence is by unequal gods removed That man of bounties, loving and beloved! To whom whate’er his slave enjoys is owed, And more, had Fate allow’d, had been bestow’d: But Fate condemn’d him to a foreign shore ”

“ Though hunger press, yet fly the dangerous prey, The herds are sacred to the god of day, Who all surveys with his extensive eye, Above, below, on earth, and in the sky! Rob not the god; and so propitious gales Attend thy voyage, and impel thy sails: But, if his herds ye seize, beneath the waves I see thy friends o’erwhelm’d in liquid graves! The direful wreck Ulysses scarce survives! Ulysses at his country scarce arrives! Strangers thy guides! nor there thy labours end; New foes arise; domestic ills attend! There foul adulterers to thy bride resort, And lordly gluttons riot in thy court. ”

“ Past sight of shore, along the surge we bound, And all above is sky, and ocean all around; When lo! a murky cloud the thunderer forms Full o’er our heads, and blackens heaven with storms. Night dwells o’er all the deep: and now outflies The gloomy west, and whistles in the skies. The mountain-billows roar! the furious blast Howls o’er the shroud, and rends it from the mast: The mast gives way, and, crackling as it bends, Tears up the deck; then all at once descends: The pilot by the tumbling ruin slain, Dash’d from the helm, falls headlong in the main. ”

“ To whom with dubious joy the queen replies: “Wise is thy soul, but errors seize the wise; The works of gods what mortal can survey? Who knows their motives, who shall trace their way? But learn we instant how the suitors trod The paths of death, by man, or by a god.” Thus speaks the queen, and no reply attends, But with alternate joy and fear descends; At every step debates her lord to prove; Or, rushing to his arms, confess her love! Then gliding through the marble valves, in state Opposed, before the shining sire she sate. ”

“ To whom thus firm of soul: “If ripe for death, And full of days, thou gently yield thy breath; While Heaven a kind release from ills foreshows, Triumph, thou happy victor of thy woes?”
But Euryclea, with dispatchful care, And sage Eurynome, the couch prepare; Instant they bid the blazing torch display Around the dome and artificial day; Then to repose her steps the matron bends, And to the queen Eurynome descends; A torch she bears, to light with guiding fires The royal pair; she guides them, and retires The instant his fair spouse Ulysses led To the chaste love-rites of the nuptial bed. ”

“ The third fair morn now blazed upon the main; Then glassy smooth lay all the liquid plain; The winds were hush’d, the billows scarcely curl’d, And a dead silence still’d the watery world; When lifted on a ridgy wave he spies The land at distance, and with sharpen’d eyes. As pious children joy with vast delight When a loved sire revives before their sight (Who, lingering long, has call’d on death in vain, Fix’d by some demon to his bed of pain, Till heaven by miracle his life restore) ; So joys Ulysses at the appearing shore ”

“ Meantime returning, with remorseless sway The monarch savage rends the panting prey: With equal fury, and with equal fame, Shall great Ulysses reassert his claim. O Jove! supreme! whom men and gods revere; And thou whose lustre gilds the rolling sphere! With power congenial join’d, propitious aid The chief adopted by the martial maid! Such to our wish the warrior soon restore, As when, contending on the Lesbian shore, His prowess Philomelides confess’d, And loud acclaiming Greeks the victor bless’d: Then soon the invaders of his bed, and throne, Their love presumptuous shall by death atone. ”

“ How more inferior in the gifts of mind! Alas, a mortal! most oppress’d of those Whom Fate has loaded with a weight of woes; By a sad train of Miseries alone Distinguish’d long, and second now to none! By Heaven’s high will compell’d from shore to shore; With Heaven’s high will prepared to suffer more. What histories of toil could I declare! But still long-wearied nature wants repair; Spent with fatigue, and shrunk with pining fast, My craving bowels still require repast. Howe’er the noble, suffering mind may grieve Its load of anguish, and disdain to live, Necessity demands our daily bread ”

“ If monarchs by the gods are plunged in woe, To what abyss are we foredoom’d to go!” Then affable he thus the chief address’d, Whilst with pathetic warmth his hand he press’d:
“Stranger, may fate a milder aspect show, And spin thy future with a whiter clue! O Jove! for ever deaf to human cries; The tyrant, not the father of the skies! Unpiteous of the race thy will began! The fool of fate, thy manufacture, man, With penury, contempt, repulse, and care, The galling load of life is doom’d to bear. Ulysses from his state a wanderer still, Upbraids thy power, thy wisdom, or thy will! ”

“ Ungracious gods! with spite and envy cursed! Still to your own ethereal race the worst! Ye envy mortal and immortal joy, And love, the only sweet of life destroy, Did ever goddess by her charms engage A favour’d mortal, and not feel your rage? So when Aurora sought Orion’s love, Her joys disturbed your blissful hours above, Till, in Ortygia Dian’s winged dart Had pierced the hapless hunter to the heart, So when the covert of the thrice-eared field Saw stately Ceres to her passion yield, Scarce could Iasion taste her heavenly charms, But Jove’s swift lightning scorched him in her arms. ”

“ These words the Cyclop’s burning rage provoke; From the tall hill he rends a pointed rock; High o’er the billows flew the massy load, And near the ship came thundering on the flood. It almost brush’d the helm, and fell before: The whole sea shook, and refluent beat the shore, The strong concussion on the heaving tide Roll’d back the vessel to the island’s side: Again I shoved her off: our fate to fly, Each nerve we stretch, and every oar we ply. Just ’scaped impending death, when now again We twice as far had furrow’d back the main, Once more I raise my voice ”