The Odysseys of Homer, together with the shorter poems. Homer

Greeks at all hours, that, with fairest course,

       ‭ What best became them, they might put in force.

       ‭ But when Troy’s’ high tow’rs we had levell’d thus,

       ‭ We put to sea, and God divided us.

       ‭ And then did Jove our sad retreat devise;

       ‭ For all the Greeks were neither just nor wise,

       ‭ And therefore many felt so sharp a fate,

       ‭ Sent from Minerva’s most pernicious hate;

       ‭ Whose mighty Father can do fearful things.

       ‭ By whose help she betwixt the brother kings

       ‭ Let fall contention; who in council met

       ‭ In vain, and timeless, when the sun was set,

       ‭ And all the Greeks call’d, that came charg’d with wine.

       ‭ Yet then the kings would utter their design,

       ‭ And why they summon’d. 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.

       ‭ Morn came, we launch’d, and in our ships did stow

       ‭ Our goods, and fair-girt women. 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.

       ‭ But I fled all, with all that follow’d me,

       ‭ Because I knew God studied misery,

       ‭ To hurl amongst us. With me likewise fled

       ‭ Martial Tydides. I the men he led

       ‭ Gat to go with him. Winds our fleet did bring

       ‭ To Lesbos, where the yellow-headed king,

       ‭ Though late, yet found us, as we put to choice

       ‭ A tedious voyage; if we sail should hoise

       ‭ Above rough Chius, left on our left hand,

       ‭ To th’ isle of Psyria, or that rugged land

       ‭ Sail under, and for windy Mimas steer.

       ‭ We ask’d of God that some ostent might clear

       ‭ Our cloudy business, who gave us sign,

       ‭ And charge, that all should, in a middle line,

       ‭ The sea cut for Eubœa, that with speed

       ‭ Our long-sustain’d infortune might be freed.

       ‭ Then did a whistling wind begin to rise,

       ‭ And swiftly flew we through the fishy skies,

       ‭ Till to Geræstus we in night were brought;

       ‭ Where, through the broad sea since we safe had wrought,

       ‭ At Neptune’s altars many solid thighs

       ‭ Of slaughter’d bulls we burn’d for sacrifice.

       ‭ The fourth day came, when Tydeus’ son did greet

       ‭ The haven of Argos with his cómplete fleet.

       ‭ But I for Pylos straight steer’d on my course;

       ‭ Nor ever left the wind his foreright force,

       ‭ Since God fore-sent it first. And thus I came,

       ‭ Dear son, to Pylos, uninform’d by fame,

       ‭ Nor know one sav’d by Fate, or overcome.

       ‭ Whom I have heard of since, set here at home,

       ‭ As fits, thou shalt be taught, nought left unshown.

       ‭ The expert spear-men, ev’ry Myrmidon,

       ‭ Led by the brave heir of the mighty-soul’d

       ‭ Unpeer’d Achilles, safe of home got hold;

       ‭ Safe Philoctetes, Pœan’s famous seed;

       ‭ And safe Idomenæus his men led

       ‭ To his home, Crete, who fled the arméd field,

       ‭ Of whom yet none the sea from him withheld.

       ‭ Atrides, you have both heard, though ye be

       ‭ His far-off dwellers, what an end had he,

       ‭ Done by Ægisthus to a bitter death;

       ‭ Who miserably paid for forcéd breath,

       ‭ Atrides leaving a good son, that dyed,

       ‭ In blood of that deceitful parricide,

       ‭ His wreakful sword. And thou my friend, as he

       ‭ For this hath his fame, the like spirit in thee

       ‭ Assume at all parts. Fair and great, I see,

       ‭ Thou art in all hope, make it good to th’ end,

       ‭ That after-times as much may thee commend.”

       ‭ He answer’d: “O thou greatest grace of Greece,

       ‭ Orestes made that wreak his master-piece,

       ‭ And him the Greeks will give a master-praise,

       ‭ Verse finding him to last all after-days.

       ‭ And would to God the Gods would favour me

       ‭ With his performance, that my injury,

       ‭ Done by my mother’s Wooers, being so foul,

       ‭ I might revenge upon their ev’ry soul;

       ‭ Who, pressing me with contumelies, dare

       ‭ Such things as past the pow’r of utt’rance are.

       ‭ But Heav’n’s great Pow’rs have grac’d my destiny

       ‭ With no such honour. Both my sire and I

       ‭ Are born to suffer everlastingly.”

       ‭ “Because you name those Wooers, friend,” said he,

       ‭ “Report says, many such, in spite of thee,

       ‭