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

for me, and all my rest,

       ‭ Four of the sea-calves’ skins but newly flay’d,

       ‭ To work a wile which she had fashionéd

       ‭ Upon her father. Then, within the sand

       ‭ A covert digging, when these calves should land,

       ‭ She sat expecting. We came close to her;

       ‭ She plac’d us orderly, and made us wear

       ‭ Each one his calf’s skin. But we then must pass

       ‭ A huge exploit. The sea-calves’ savour was

       ‭ So passing sour, they still being bred at seas,

       ‭ It much afflicted us; for who can please

       ‭ To lie by one of these same sea-bred whales?

       ‭ But she preserves us, and to memory calls

       ‭ A rare commodity; she fetch’d to us

       ‭ Ambrosia, that an air most odorous

       ‭ Bears still about it, which she ‘nointed round

       ‭ Our either nosthrils, and in it quite drown’d

       ‭ The nasty whale-smell. Then the great event

       ‭ The whole morn’s date, with spirits patient,

       ‭ We lay expecting. When bright noon did flame,

       ‭ Forth from the sea in shoals the sea-calves came,

       ‭ And orderly, at last lay down and slept

       ‭ Along the sands. And then th’ old Sea-God crept

       ‭ From forth the deeps, and found his fat calves there,

       ‭ Survey’d, and number’d, and came never near

       ‭ The craft we us’d, but told us five for calves.

       ‭ His temples then dis-eas’d with sleep he salves;

       ‭ And in rush’d we, with an abhorréd cry,

       ‭ Cast all our hands about him manfully;

       ‭ And then th’ old Forger all his forms began:

       ‭ First was a lion with a mighty mane,

       ‭ Then next a dragon, a pied panther then,

       ‭ A vast boar next, and suddenly did strain

       ‭ All into water. Last he was a tree,

       ‭ Curl’d all at top, and shot up to the sky.

       ‭ We, with resolv’d hearts, held him firmly still,

       ‭ When th’ old one (held too strait for all his skill

       ‭ To extricate) gave words, and question’d me:

       ‭ “Which of the Gods, O Atreus’ son,’ said he,

       ‭ ‘Advis’d and taught thy fortitude this sleight,

       ‭ To take and hold me thus in my despite?’

       ‭ ‘What asks thy wish now?’ I replied. 'Thou know’st.

       ‭ Why dost thou ask? What wiles are these thou show’st?

       ‭ I have within this isle been held for wind

       ‭ A wondrous time, and can by no means find

       ‭ An end to my retention. It hath spent

       ‭ The very heart in me. Give thou then vent

       ‭ To doubts thus bound in me, ye Gods know all,

       ‭ Which of the Godheads doth so foully fall

       ‭ On my addression home, to stay me here,

       ‭ Avert me from my way, the fishy clear

       ‭ Barr’d to my passage?’ He replied: ‘Of force,

       ‭ If to thy home thou wishest free recourse,

       ‭ To Jove, and all the other Deities,

       ‭ Thou must exhibit solemn sacrifice;

       ‭ And then the black sea for thee shall be clear,

       ‭ Till thy lov’d country’s settled reach. But where

       ‭ Ask these rites thy performance? ’Tis a fate

       ‭ To thee and thy affairs appropriate,

       ‭ That thou shalt never see thy friends, nor tread

       ‭ Thy country’s earth, nor see inhabited

       ‭ Thy so magnificent house, till thou make good

       ‭ Thy voyage back to the Ægyptian flood,

       ‭ Whose waters fell from Jove, and there hast giv’n

       ‭ To Jove, and all Gods housed in ample heav’n,

       ‭ Devoted hecatombs, and then free ways

       ‭ Shall open to thee, clear’d of all delays.’

       ‭ This told he; and, methought, he brake my heart,

       ‭ In such a long and hard course to divert

       ‭ My hope for home, and charge my back retreat

       ‭ As far as Ægypt. I made answer yet:

       ‭ ‘Father, thy charge I’ll perfect; but before

       ‭ Resolve me truly, if their natural shore

       ‭ 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.

       ‭ Many of those, whose states so tempt thine ears,

       ‭ Are stoop’d by death, and many left alive,

       ‭ One chief of which in strong hold doth survive,

       ‭ Amidst the broad sea. Two, in their retreat,

       ‭ Are done to death. I list not to repeat

       ‭ Who fell at Troy, thyself was there in fight,

       ‭ But in return swift Ajax lost the light,

       ‭ In his long-oar’d ship. Neptune, yet, awhile

       ‭ Saft him unwrack’d, to the Gyræan isle,

       ‭ A mighty-rock removing from his way.

       ‭ And surely he had ‘scap’d the fatal day,

       ‭ In spite of Pallas, if to that foul deed

       ‭ He in her fane did, (when he ravishéd

       ‭ The Trojan prophetess) he had not here

       ‭ Adjoin’d an impious boast, that he would bear,

       ‭ Despite the Gods, his ship safe through the waves

       ‭ Then rais’d against him. These his impious braves

       ‭ When Neptune heard, in his strong hand he took

       ‭ His massy trident, and so soundly strook

       ‭ The rock Gyræan,