Homer

“ And stood, in gold arm’d, in her Father’s view,
Shaking her sharp lance. All Olympus shook
So terribly beneath her, that it took
Up in amazes all the Deities there.
All earth resounded with vociferous fear.
The sea was put up all in purple waves,
And settled suddenly her rudest raves.
Hyperion’s radiant son his swift-hov’d steeds
A mighty time stay’d, till her arming weeds,
As glorious as the Gods’, the blue-ey’d Maid
Took from her deathless shoulders; but then stay’d
All these distempers, and heaven’s counsellor, Jove,
Rejoic’d that all things else his stay could move. ”

“ But none can live without the death of sleep,
Th’ Immortals in our mortal memories keep
Our ends and deaths by sleep, dividing so,
As by the fate and portion of our woe,
Our times spent here, to let us nightly try
That while we live, as much live as we die.
In which use I will to my bed ascend,
Which I bedew with tears, and sigh past end
Through all my hours spent, since I lost my joy
For vile, lewd, never-to-be-naméd, Troy,
Yet there I’ll prove for sleep, which take you here,
Or on the earth, if that your custom were,
Or have a bed, dispos’d for warmer rest. ”

“ Menelaus, he
Put all in mind of home, and cried, To sea.
But Agamemnon stood on contraries,
Whose will was, they should stay and sacrifice
Whole hecatombs to Pallas, to forego
Her high wrath to them. Fool! that did not know
She would not so be won; for not with ease
Th’ Eternal Gods are turn’d from what they please.
So they, divided, on foul language stood.
The Greeks in huge rout rose, their wine-heat blood
Two ways affecting. And, that night’s sleep too,
We turn’d to studying either other’s woe;
When Jove besides made ready woes enow. ”

“ And still with sad hearts sail’d by out-way shores,
Till th’ out-law’d Cyclops’ land we fetch’d; a race
Of proud-liv’d loiterers, that never sow,
Nor put a plant in earth, nor use a plow,
But trust in God for all things; and their earth,
Unsown, unplow’d, gives ev’ry offspring birth
That other lands have; wheat, and barley, vines
That bear in goodly grapes delicious wines;
And Jove sends show’rs for all. No councils there,
Nor councillors, nor laws; but all men bear
Their heads aloft on mountains, and those steep,
And on their tops too ”

“ The Muses, Jove, and Phœbus, now I sing;
For from the far-off-shooting Phœbus spring
All poets and musicians, and from Jove
Th’ ascents of kings. The man the Muses love,
Felicity blesses; elocution’s choice
In syrup lay’ng of sweetest breath his voice.
Hail, Seed of Jove, my song your honours give,
And so in mine shall yours and others’ live.
A Hymn to Bacchus
Ivy-crown’d Bacchus iterate in thy praises,
O Muse; whose voice all loftiest echoes raises,
And he with all th’ illustrious Seed of Jove
Is join’d in honour, being the fruit of love
To him, and Semele the-great-in-graces ”

“ Ulysses’ knees, then all his spirit was spent.
In which despair, he thus spake: “Woe is me!
What was I born to, man of misery!
Fear tells me now, that, all the Goddess said,
Truth’s self will author, that Fate would be paid
Grief’s whole sum due from me, at sea, before
I reach’d the dear touch of my country’s shore.
With what clouds Jove heav’n’s heighten’d forehead binds!
How tyrannize the wraths of all the winds!
How all the tops he bottoms with the deeps,
And in the bottoms all the tops he steeps!
Thus dreadful is the presence of our death. ”

“ And all the suff’rance on thy bosom laid,
But, truly, to thy ill hath Jove join’d good,
That one whose veins are serv’d with human blood
Hath bought thy service, that gives competence
Of food, wine, cloth to thee; and sure th’ expence
Of thy life’s date here is of good desert,
Whose labours not to thee alone impart
Sufficient food and housing, but to me;
Where I through many a heap’d humanity
Have hither err’d, where, though, like thee, not sold,
Nor stay’d like thee yet, nor nought needful hold. ”

“ All those Greeks, and their ships, do safe enjoy,
That Nestor and myself left, when from Troy
We first rais’d sail? Or whether any died
At sea a death unwish’d? Or, satisfied,
When war was past, by friends embrac’d, in peace
Resign’d their spirits? He made answer: ‘Cease
To ask so far. It fits thee not to be
So cunning in thine own calamity.
Nor seek to learn what learn’d thou shouldst forget.
Men’s knowledges have proper limits set,
And should not prease into the mind of God.
But ’twill not long be, as my thoughts abode,
Before thou buy this curious skill with tears. ”

“ All other Cyclops, with whose burden swell’d
The nymph Thoosa, the divine increase
Of Phorcys’ seed, a great God of the seas.
She mix’d with Neptune in his hollow caves,
And bore this Cyclop to that God of waves.
For whose lost eye, th’ Earth-shaker did not kill
Erring Ulysses, but reserves him still
In life for more death. But use we our pow’rs,
And round about us cast these cares of ours,
All to discover how we may prefer
His wish’d retreat, and Neptune make forbear
His stern eye to him, since no one God can,
In spite of all, prevail, but ’gainst a man. ”

“ To let th’ observing presence note a tear.
But, when his sacred song the mere divine
Had giv’n an end, a goblet crown’d with wine
Ulysses, drying his wet eyes, did seize, [1]
And sacrific’d to those Gods that would please
T’ inspire the poet with a song so fit
To do him honour, and renown his wit.
His tears then stay’d. But when again began,
By all the kings’ desires, the moving man,
Again Ulysses could not choose but yield
To that soft passion, which again, withheld,
He kept so cunningly from sight, that none,
Except Alcinous himself alone,
Discern’d him mov’d so much. ”

“ And when, O Phœbus, that eternal wine
Thy taste had relish’d, and that food divine,
No golden swathband longer could contain
Thy panting bosom; all that would constrain
Thy soon-eas’d Godhead, every feeble chain
Of earthy child-rites, flew in sunder all.
And then didst thou thus to the Deities call:
“Let there be given me my lov’d lute and bow,
I’ll prophesy to men, and make them know
Jove’s perfect counsels.” This said, up did fly
From broad-way’d Earth the unshorn Deity,
Far-shot Apollo. All th’ Immortals stood
In steep amaze to see Latona’s brood. ”

“ Half our men
The people’s guide, Atrides, did contain,
And half, being now aboard, put forth to sea.
A most free gale gave all ships prosp’rous way.
God settled then the huge whale-bearing lake,
And Tenedos we reach’d; where, for time’s sake,
We did divine rites to the Gods. But Jove,
Inexorable still, bore yet no love
To our return, but did again excite
A second sad contention, that turn’d quite
A great part of us back to sea again;
Which were th’ abundant-in-all-counsels man,
Your matchless father, who, to gratify
The great Atrides, back to him did fly. ”

“ Thy words shall bounds be to our former tears.
O he is questionless a right-born son,
That of his father hath not only won
The person but the wisdom; and that sire
Complete himself that hath a son entire,
Jove did not only his full fate adorn,
When he was wedded, but when he was born.
As now Saturnius, through his life’s whole date,
Hath Nestor’s bliss rais’d to as steep a state,
Both in his age to keep in peace his house,
And to have children wise and valorous.
But let us not forget our rear feast thus.
Let some give water here. Telemachus! ”

“ With so much skill, as not to over-urge
The foot behind, and make them straggle so
From close society. Firm together go
Ulysses and her maids. And now the sun
Sunk to the waters, when they all had won
The never-fell’d, and sound-exciting, wood,
Sacred to Pallas; where the god-like good
Ulysses rested, and to Pallas pray’d:
“Hear me, of goat-kept Jove th’ unconquer’d Maid! [11]
Now throughly hear me, since, in all the time
Of all my wrack, my pray’rs could never climb
Thy far-off ears; when noiseful Neptune toss’d
Upon his wat’ry bristles my emboss’d
And rock-torn body. ”

“ Finds the whole work but an unhappy thing,
He, I say, sure shall of this lute be king.
But he, whoever rudely sets upon
Of this lute’s skill th’ inquest or question
Never so ardently and angrily,
Without the aptness and ability
Of art, and nature fitting, never shall
Aspire to this, but utter trivial
And idle accents, though sung ne’er so loud,
And never so commended of the crowd.
But thee I know, O eminent Son of Jove,
The fiery learner of whatever Love
Hath sharpen’d thy affections to achieve,
And thee I give this lute. ”

“ To Jove’s high house, and had a retinue
Of Gods t’ attend him; and then straight did fall
To study of the harp, and harpsical,
All th’ Immortals. To whom every Muse
With ravishing voices did their answers use,
Singing th’ eternal deeds of Deity,
And from their hands what hells of misery
Poor humans suffer, living desperate quite,
And not an art they have, wit, or deceit,
Can make them manage any act aright,
Nor find, with all the soul they can engage,
A salve for death, or remedy for age. ”

“ Arriv’d and shipp’d, the silent solemn night
And sleep bereft us of our visual light.
At morn, masts, sails, rear’d, we sat, left the shores,
And beat the foamy ocean with our oars.
Again then we the Jove-fall’n flood did fetch,
As far as Ægypt; where we did beseech
The Gods with hecatombs; whose angers ceast,
I tomb’d my brother that I might be blest.
All rites perform’d, all haste I made for home,
And all the prosp’rous winds about were come,
I had the passport now of ev’ry God,
And here clos’d all these labours’ period. ”

“ That call choice men The Honest, who are styl’d
The rich, the great. But what such great ones build
Jove oft pulls down, as thus he ruin’d me;
His will was such, which is his equity.
And therefore, woman, bear you fitting hand
On your behaviour, lest your spirit thus mann’d,
And cherish’d with your beauties, when they wane,
Comes down, your pride now being then your bane;
And in the mean space shun the present danger,
Lest your bold fashion breed your sov’reign’s anger,
Or lest Ulysses come, of whom ev’n yet
Hope finds some life in Fate. ”

“ Where come, they launch’d the ship, the mast it bore
Advanc’d, sails hoiséd, ev’ry seat his oar
Gave with a leather thong. The deep moist then
They further reach’d. The dry streets flow’d with men,
That troop’d up to the king’s capacious court,
Whose porticos were chok’d with the resort,
Whose walls were hung with men, young, old, thrust there
In mighty concourse; for whose promis’d cheer
Alcinous slew twelve sheep, eight white-tooth’d swine,
Two crook-haunch’d beeves; which flay’d and dress’d, divine
The show was of so many a jocund guest,
All set together at so set a feast. ”

“ In love mix’d, lay the King of Gods and men;
By whom made fruitful, she Pandea bore,
And added her state to th’ Immortal Store.
Hail, Queen, and Goddess, th’ ivory-wristed Moon
Divine, prompt, fair-hair’d! With thy grace begun,
My Muse shall forth, and celebrate the praise
Of men whose states the Deities did raise
To semi-deities; whose deeds t’ endless date
Muse-lov’d and sweet-sung poets celebrate.
A Hymn to Castor and Pollux
Jove’s fair Sons, father’d by th’ Oebalian king,
Muses well-worth-all men’s beholdings, sing! ”

“ Some virtue in him fit to be embrac’d
By all the house, but most of all by me,
And by my son that was the progeny
Of both our loves. And yet it is not he,
For all the likely proofs ye plead to me,—
Some God hath slain the Wooers in disdain
Of the abhorréd pride he saw so reign
In those base works they did. No man alive,
Or good or bad, whoever did arrive
At their abodes once, ever could obtain
Regard of them; and therefore their so vain
And vile deserts have found as vile an end.
But, for Ulysses, never will extend
His wish’d return to Greece, nor he yet lives. ”

“ And earth combine so in thy loss’s sense,
Had taken ship and fled for ever thence,
If old much-knowing-Nestor had not stay’d
Their rushing off; his counsels having sway’d
In all times former with such cause their courses;
Who bade contain themselves, and trust their forces,
For all they saw was Thetis come from sea,
With others of the wat’ry progeny,
To see and mourn for her deceaséd son.
Which stay’d the fears that all to flight had won;
And round about thee stood th’ old sea-God’s Seeds
Wretchedly mourning, their immortal weeds
Spreading upon thee. ”

“ Amongst th’ Immortals ever.” This spleen spent
(Still yet left angry) far away she went
From all the Deathless, and yet pray’d to all,
Advanced her hand, and, ere she let it fall,
Used these excitements: “Hear me now, O Earth!
Broad Heaven above it, and beneath, your birth,
The deified Titanois, that dwell about
Vast Tartarus, from whence sprung all the rout
Of Men and Deities! Hear me all, I say,
With all your forces, and give instant way
T’ a son of mine without Jove, who yet may
Nothing inferior prove in force to him,
But past him spring as far in able limb
As he past Saturn.” ”

“ Yet th’ ancient learn’d, heat with celestial fire,
Affirms her flames so sacred and entire,
That not without God’s greatest grace she can
Fall in the wid’st capacity of man.
If yet the vile soul of this verminous time
Love more the sale-muse, and the squirrel’s chime,
Than this full sphere of poesy’s sweetest prime,
Give them unenvied their vain vein and vent,
And rest your wings in his approv’d ascent
That yet was never reach’d, nor ever fell
Into affections bought with things that sell,
Being the sun’s flow’r, and wrapt so in his sky
He cannot yield to every candle’s eye. ”

“ Consorting the design for Ilion;
Your eyes may see how much they are infected,
As all fires’ vapours ever since reflected
On those sole arms. Besides, a graver thought
Jove graves within you, lest, their spirits wrought
Above their pitch with wine, they might contend
At some high banquet, and to wounds transcend,
Their feast inverting; which, perhaps, may be
Their nuptial feast with wise Penelopé.
The ready weapon, when the blood is up,
Doubles the uproar heighten’d by the cup.
Wrath’s means for act, curb all the ways ye can,
As loadstones draw the steel, so steel draws man. ”

“ The Wooers throng’d to him, and did entreat
With gentle words his conquest, laughing still,
Pray’d Jove and all the Gods to give his will
What most it wish’d him and would joy him most,
Since he so happily had clear’d their coast
Of that unsavoury morsel; whom they vow’d
To see with all their utmost haste bestow’d
Aboard a ship, and for Epirus sent
To King Echetus, on whose throne was spent
The worst man’s seat that breath’d. And thus was grac’d
Divine Ulysses, who with joy embrac’d
Ev’n that poor conquest. ”

“ Afflicted me with tears to get them gone.
All these I told her, and she answer’d these:
“Much-skill’d Ulysses Laertiades!
Remain no more against your wills with me,
But take your free way; only this must be
Perform’d before you steer your course for home:
You must the way to Pluto overcome,
And stern Persephoné, to form your pass,
By th’ aged Theban soul Tiresias,
The dark-brow’d prophet, whose soul yet can see
Clearly, and firmly; grave Persephoné,
Ev’n dead, gave him a mind, that he alone
Might sing truth’s solid wisdom, and not one
Prove more than shade in his comparison. ”