Complete Works of Homer

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Complete Works of Homer Page 65

by Homer


  Ulysses led to Phoebus' sacred fane;

  Where at his solemn altar, as the maid

  He gave to Chryses, thus the hero said:

  "Hail, reverend priest! to Phoebus' awful dome

  A suppliant I from great Atrides come:

  Unransom'd, here receive the spotless fair;

  Accept the hecatomb the Greeks prepare;

  And may thy god who scatters darts around,

  Atoned by sacrifice, desist to wound."

  At this, the sire embraced the maid again,

  So sadly lost, so lately sought in vain.

  Then near the altar of the darting king,

  Disposed in rank their hecatomb they bring;

  With water purify their hands, and take

  The sacred offering of the salted cake;

  While thus with arms devoutly raised in air,

  And solemn voice, the priest directs his prayer:

  "God of the silver bow, thy ear incline,

  Whose power incircles Cilla the divine;

  Whose sacred eye thy Tenedos surveys,

  And gilds fair Chrysa with distinguish'd rays!

  If, fired to vengeance at thy priest's request,

  Thy direful darts inflict the raging pest:

  Once more attend! avert the wasteful woe,

  And smile propitious, and unbend thy bow."

  So Chryses pray'd. Apollo heard his prayer:

  And now the Greeks their hecatomb prepare;

  Between their horns the salted barley threw,

  And, with their heads to heaven, the victims slew:

  The limbs they sever from the inclosing hide;

  The thighs, selected to the gods, divide:

  On these, in double cauls involved with art,

  The choicest morsels lay from every part.

  The priest himself before his altar stands,

  And burns the offering with his holy hands.

  Pours the black wine, and sees the flames aspire;

  The youth with instruments surround the fire:

  The thighs thus sacrificed, and entrails dress'd,

  The assistants part, transfix, and roast the rest:

  Then spread the tables, the repast prepare;

  Each takes his seat, and each receives his share.

  When now the rage of hunger was repress'd,

  With pure libations they conclude the feast;

  The youths with wine the copious goblets crown'd,

  And, pleased, dispense the flowing bowls around;

  With hymns divine the joyous banquet ends,

  The paeans lengthen'd till the sun descends:

  The Greeks, restored, the grateful notes prolong;

  Apollo listens, and approves the song.

  'Twas night; the chiefs beside their vessel lie,

  Till rosy morn had purpled o'er the sky:

  Then launch, and hoist the mast: indulgent gales,

  Supplied by Phoebus, fill the swelling sails;

  The milk-white canvas bellying as they blow,

  The parted ocean foams and roars below:

  Above the bounding billows swift they flew,

  Till now the Grecian camp appear'd in view.

  Far on the beach they haul their bark to land,

  (The crooked keel divides the yellow sand,)

  Then part, where stretch'd along the winding bay,

  The ships and tents in mingled prospect lay.

  But raging still, amidst his navy sat

  The stern Achilles, stedfast in his hate;

  Nor mix'd in combat, nor in council join'd;

  But wasting cares lay heavy on his mind:

  In his black thoughts revenge and slaughter roll,

  And scenes of blood rise dreadful in his soul.

  Twelve days were past, and now the dawning light

  The gods had summon'd to the Olympian height:

  Jove, first ascending from the watery bowers,

  Leads the long order of ethereal powers.

  When, like the morning-mist in early day,

  Rose from the flood the daughter of the sea:

  And to the seats divine her flight address'd.

  There, far apart, and high above the rest,

  The thunderer sat; where old Olympus shrouds

  His hundred heads in heaven, and props the clouds.

  Suppliant the goddess stood: one hand she placed

  Beneath his beard, and one his knees embraced.

  "If e'er, O father of the gods! (she said)

  My words could please thee, or my actions aid,

  Some marks of honour on my son bestow,

  And pay in glory what in life you owe.

  Fame is at least by heavenly promise due

  To life so short, and now dishonour'd too.

  Avenge this wrong, O ever just and wise!

  Let Greece be humbled, and the Trojans rise;

  Till the proud king and all the Achaian race

  Shall heap with honours him they now disgrace."

  THETIS ENTREATING JUPITER TO HONOUR ACHILLES.

  Thus Thetis spoke; but Jove in silence held

  The sacred counsels of his breast conceal'd.

  Not so repulsed, the goddess closer press'd,

  Still grasp'd his knees, and urged the dear request.

  "O sire of gods and men! thy suppliant hear;

  Refuse, or grant; for what has Jove to fear?

  Or oh! declare, of all the powers above,

  Is wretched Thetis least the care of Jove?"

  She said; and, sighing, thus the god replies,

  Who rolls the thunder o'er the vaulted skies:

  "What hast thou ask'd? ah, why should Jove engage

  In foreign contests and domestic rage,

  The gods' complaints, and Juno's fierce alarms,

  While I, too partial, aid the Trojan arms?

  Go, lest the haughty partner of my sway

  With jealous eyes thy close access survey;

  But part in peace, secure thy prayer is sped:

  Witness the sacred honours of our head,

  The nod that ratifies the will divine,

  The faithful, fix'd, irrevocable sign;

  This seals thy suit, and this fulfils thy vows — "

  He spoke, and awful bends his sable brows,

  Shakes his ambrosial curls, and gives the nod,

  The stamp of fate and sanction of the god:

  High heaven with trembling the dread signal took,

  And all Olympus to the centre shook.

  Swift to the seas profound the goddess flies,

  Jove to his starry mansions in the skies.

  The shining synod of the immortals wait

  The coming god, and from their thrones of state

  Arising silent, wrapp'd in holy fear,

  Before the majesty of heaven appear.

  Trembling they stand, while Jove assumes the throne,

  All, but the god's imperious queen alone:

  Late had she view'd the silver-footed dame,

  And all her passions kindled into flame.

  "Say, artful manager of heaven (she cries),

  Who now partakes the secrets of the skies?

  Thy Juno knows not the decrees of fate,

  In vain the partner of imperial state.

  What favourite goddess then those cares divides,

  Which Jove in prudence from his consort hides?"

  To this the thunderer: "Seek not thou to find

  The sacred counsels of almighty mind:

  Involved in darkness likes the great decree,

  Nor can the depths of fate be pierced by thee.

  What fits thy knowledge, thou the first shalt know;

  The first of gods above, and men below;

  But thou, nor they, shall search the thoughts that roll

  Deep in the close recesses of my soul."

  Full on the sire the goddess of the skies

  Roll'd the large orbs of her majestic eyes,

&nb
sp; And thus return'd: — "Austere Saturnius, say,

  From whence this wrath, or who controls thy sway?

  Thy boundless will, for me, remains in force,

  And all thy counsels take the destined course.

  But 'tis for Greece I fear: for late was seen,

  In close consult, the silver-footed queen.

  Jove to his Thetis nothing could deny,

  Nor was the signal vain that shook the sky.

  What fatal favour has the goddess won,

  To grace her fierce, inexorable son?

  Perhaps in Grecian blood to drench the plain,

  And glut his vengeance with my people slain."

  Then thus the god: "O restless fate of pride,

  That strives to learn what heaven resolves to hide;

  Vain is the search, presumptuous and abhorr'd,

  Anxious to thee, and odious to thy lord.

  Let this suffice: the immutable decree

  No force can shake: what is, that ought to be.

  Goddess, submit; nor dare our will withstand,

  But dread the power of this avenging hand:

  The united strength of all the gods above

  In vain resists the omnipotence of Jove."

  VULCAN.

  The thunderer spoke, nor durst the queen reply;

  A reverent horror silenced all the sky.

  The feast disturb'd, with sorrow Vulcan saw

  His mother menaced, and the gods in awe;

  Peace at his heart, and pleasure his design,

  Thus interposed the architect divine:

  "The wretched quarrels of the mortal state

  Are far unworthy, gods! of your debate:

  Let men their days in senseless strife employ,

  We, in eternal peace and constant joy.

  Thou, goddess-mother, with our sire comply,

  Nor break the sacred union of the sky:

  Lest, roused to rage, he shake the bless'd abodes,

  Launch the red lightning, and dethrone the gods.

  If you submit, the thunderer stands appeased;

  The gracious power is willing to be pleased."

  Thus Vulcan spoke: and rising with a bound,

  The double bowl with sparkling nectar crown'd,

  Which held to Juno in a cheerful way,

  "Goddess (he cried), be patient and obey.

  Dear as you are, if Jove his arm extend,

  I can but grieve, unable to defend

  What god so daring in your aid to move,

  Or lift his hand against the force of Jove?

  Once in your cause I felt his matchless might,

  Hurl'd headlong down from the ethereal height;73

  Toss'd all the day in rapid circles round,

  Nor till the sun descended touch'd the ground.

  Breathless I fell, in giddy motion lost;

  The Sinthians raised me on the Lemnian coast;74

  He said, and to her hands the goblet heaved,

  Which, with a smile, the white-arm'd queen received

  Then, to the rest he fill'd; and in his turn,

  Each to his lips applied the nectar'd urn,

  Vulcan with awkward grace his office plies,

  And unextinguish'd laughter shakes the skies.

  Thus the blest gods the genial day prolong,

  In feasts ambrosial, and celestial song.

  Apollo tuned the lyre; the Muses round

  With voice alternate aid the silver sound.

  Meantime the radiant sun to mortal sight

  Descending swift, roll'd down the rapid light:

  Then to their starry domes the gods depart,

  The shining monuments of Vulcan's art:

  Jove on his couch reclined his awful head,

  And Juno slumber'd on the golden bed.

  JUPITER.

  THE APOTHEOSIS OF HOMER.

  * * *

  BOOK II.

  ARGUMENT.

  THE TRIAL OF THE ARMY, AND CATALOGUE OF THE FORCES.

  Jupiter, in pursuance of the request of Thetis, sends a deceitful vision to Agamemnon, persuading him to lead the army to battle, in order to make the Greeks sensible of their want of Achilles. The general, who is deluded with the hopes of taking Troy without his assistance, but fears the army was discouraged by his absence, and the late plague, as well as by the length of time, contrives to make trial of their disposition by a stratagem. He first communicates his design to the princes in council, that he would propose a return to the soldiers, and that they should put a stop to them if the proposal was embraced. Then he assembles the whole host, and upon moving for a return to Greece, they unanimously agree to it, and run to prepare the ships. They are detained by the management of Ulysses, who chastises the insolence of Thersites. The assembly is recalled, several speeches made on the occasion, and at length the advice of Nestor followed, which was to make a general muster of the troops, and to divide them into their several nations, before they proceeded to battle. This gives occasion to the poet to enumerate all the forces of the Greeks and Trojans, and in a large catalogue.

  The time employed in this book consists not entirely of one day. The scene lies in the Grecian camp, and upon the sea-shore; towards the end it removes to Troy.

  Now pleasing sleep had seal'd each mortal eye,

  Stretch'd in the tents the Grecian leaders lie:

  The immortals slumber'd on their thrones above;

  All, but the ever-wakeful eyes of Jove.

  To honour Thetis' son he bends his care,

  And plunge the Greeks in all the woes of war:

  Then bids an empty phantom rise to sight,

  And thus commands the vision of the night.

  "Fly hence, deluding Dream! and light as air,

  To Agamemnon's ample tent repair.

  Bid him in arms draw forth the embattled train,

  Lead all his Grecians to the dusty plain.

  Declare, e'en now 'tis given him to destroy

  The lofty towers of wide-extended Troy.

  For now no more the gods with fate contend,

  At Juno's suit the heavenly factions end.

  Destruction hangs o'er yon devoted wall,

  And nodding Ilion waits the impending fall."

  Swift as the word the vain illusion fled,

  Descends, and hovers o'er Atrides' head;

  Clothed in the figure of the Pylian sage,

  Renown'd for wisdom, and revered for age:

  Around his temples spreads his golden wing,

  And thus the flattering dream deceives the king.

  JUPITER SENDING THE EVIL DREAM TO AGAMEMNON.

  "Canst thou, with all a monarch's cares oppress'd,

  O Atreus' son! canst thou indulge the rest?

  Ill fits a chief who mighty nations guides,

  Directs in council, and in war presides,

  To whom its safety a whole people owes,

  To waste long nights in indolent repose.

  Monarch, awake! 'tis Jove's command I bear;

  Thou, and thy glory, claim his heavenly care.

  In just array draw forth the embattled train,

  Lead all thy Grecians to the dusty plain;

  E'en now, O king! 'tis given thee to destroy

  The lofty towers of wide-extended Troy.

  For now no more the gods with fate contend,

  At Juno's suit the heavenly factions end.

  Destruction hangs o'er yon devoted wall,

  And nodding Ilion waits the impending fall.

  Awake, but waking this advice approve,

  And trust the vision that descends from Jove."

  The phantom said; then vanish'd from his sight,

  Resolves to air, and mixes with the night.

  A thousand schemes the monarch's mind employ;

  Elate in thought he sacks untaken Troy:

  Vain as he was, and to the future blind,

  Nor saw what Jove and secret fate design'd,

  What mighty toils
to either host remain,

  What scenes of grief, and numbers of the slain!

  Eager he rises, and in fancy hears

  The voice celestial murmuring in his ears.

  First on his limbs a slender vest he drew,

  Around him next the regal mantle threw,

  The embroider'd sandals on his feet were tied;

  The starry falchion glitter'd at his side;

  And last, his arm the massy sceptre loads,

  Unstain'd, immortal, and the gift of gods.

  Now rosy Morn ascends the court of Jove,

  Lifts up her light, and opens day above.

  The king despatch'd his heralds with commands

  To range the camp and summon all the bands:

  The gathering hosts the monarch's word obey;

  While to the fleet Atrides bends his way.

  In his black ship the Pylian prince he found;

  There calls a senate of the peers around:

  The assembly placed, the king of men express'd

  The counsels labouring in his artful breast.

  "Friends and confederates! with attentive ear

  Receive my words, and credit what you hear.

  Late as I slumber'd in the shades of night,

  A dream divine appear'd before my sight;

  Whose visionary form like Nestor came,

  The same in habit, and in mien the same.

  The heavenly phantom hover'd o'er my head,

  'And, dost thou sleep, O Atreus' son? (he said)

  Ill fits a chief who mighty nations guides,

  Directs in council, and in war presides;

  To whom its safety a whole people owes,

  To waste long nights in indolent repose.

  Monarch, awake! 'tis Jove's command I bear,

  Thou and thy glory claim his heavenly care.

  In just array draw forth the embattled train,

  And lead the Grecians to the dusty plain;

  E'en now, O king! 'tis given thee to destroy

  The lofty towers of wide-extended Troy.

  For now no more the gods with fate contend,

  At Juno's suit the heavenly factions end.

  Destruction hangs o'er yon devoted wall,

  And nodding Ilion waits the impending fall.

  This hear observant, and the gods obey!'

  The vision spoke, and pass'd in air away.

  Now, valiant chiefs! since heaven itself alarms,

  Unite, and rouse the sons of Greece to arms.

  But first, with caution, try what yet they dare,

  Worn with nine years of unsuccessful war.

 

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