Him, childlike wandering forth, I'll lead away, (A noble prize!) and to your ship convey." Thus spoke the dame, and homeward took A year they traffic, and their vessel load. With gold and amber chains, elaborate frame: Three golden goblets in the porch she found With level oar along the glassy deep. Six calmy days and six smooth nights we sail, And constant Jove supplied the gentle gale. The seventh, the fraudful wretch (no cause descried) Touch'd by Diana's vengeful arrow died. Down dropp'd the caitiff corpse, a worthless load, Down to the deep; there roll'd the future food Of fierce sea-wolves, and monsters of the flood, An helpless infant, I remain'd behind: Thence borne to Ithaca by wave and wind; Sold to Laertes, by divine command, And now adopted to a foreign land.' To him the king- Reciting thus thy cares, My secret soul in all thy sorrow shares: But one choice blessing (such is Jove's high will) Of young Telemachus approach'd the land; When thus the prince- Now each his course pursue: I to the fields, and to the city you. Long absent hence, I dedicate this day The prince return'd—' Renown'd in days of yore Has stood our father's hospitable door; No other roof a stranger should receive, WOOS the queen with more respectful flame, Thus speaking, on the right up soar'd in air The hawk, Apollo's swift-wing'd messenger; His deathful pounces tore a trembling dove: The clotted feathers, scatter'd from above, Between the hero and the vessel pour Thick plumage, mingled with a sanguine shower. To thine, for ages, Heaven decrees the sway.' The presence of thy guest shall best reward (If long thy stay) the absence of my lord.' With that, their anchors he commands to weigh, Mount the tall bark and launch into the sea. All with obedient haste forsake the shores, And reach'd the mansion of his faithful swain. END OF VOL. LXXVIII. C. Whittingham, College House, Chiswick. |