Complete Works of Homer

by Homer

  Life's precious hours to eating cares he gave

  Continual, with the nymph now charm'd no more.

  Yet, cold as she was am'rous, still he pass'd 180

  His nights beside her in the hollow grot,

  Constrain'd, and day by day the rocks among

  Which lined the shore heart-broken sat, and oft

  While wistfully he eyed the barren Deep,

  Wept, groaned, desponded, sigh'd, and wept again.

  Then, drawing near, thus spake the nymph divine.

  Unhappy! weep not here, nor life consume

  In anguish; go; thou hast my glad consent.

  Arise to labour; hewing down the trunks

  Of lofty trees, fashion them with the ax 190

  To a broad raft, which closely floor'd above,

  Shall hence convey thee o'er the gloomy Deep.

  Bread, water, and the red grape's cheering juice

  Myself will put on board, which shall preserve

  Thy life from famine; I will also give

  New raiment for thy limbs, and will dispatch

  Winds after thee to waft thee home unharm'd,

  If such the pleasure of the Gods who dwell

  In yonder boundless heav'n, superior far

  To me, in knowledge and in skill to judge. 200

  She ceas'd; but horror at that sound the heart

  Chill'd of Ulysses, and in accents wing'd

  With wonder, thus the noble Chief replied.

  Ah! other thoughts than of my safe return

  Employ thee, Goddess, now, who bid'st me pass

  The perilous gulph of Ocean on a raft,

  That wild expanse terrible, which even ships

  Pass not, though form'd to cleave their way with ease,

  And joyful in propitious winds from Jove.

  No--let me never, in despight of thee, 210

  Embark on board a raft, nor till thou swear,

  O Goddess! the inviolable oath,

  That future mischief thou intend'st me none.

  He said; Calypso, beauteous Goddess, smiled,

  And, while she spake, stroaking his cheek, replied.

  Thou dost asperse me rudely, and excuse

  Of ignorance hast none, far better taught;

  What words were these? How could'st thou thus reply?

  Now hear me Earth, and the wide Heav'n above!

  Hear, too, ye waters of the Stygian stream 220

  Under the earth (by which the blessed Gods

  Swear trembling, and revere the awful oath!)

  That future mischief I intend thee none.

  No, my designs concerning thee are such

  As, in an exigence resembling thine,

  Myself, most sure, should for myself conceive.

  I have a mind more equal, not of steel

  My heart is form'd, but much to pity inclined.

  So saying, the lovely Goddess with swift pace

  Led on, whose footsteps he as swift pursued. 230

  Within the vaulted cavern they arrived,

  The Goddess and the man; on the same throne

  Ulysses sat, whence Hermes had aris'n,

  And viands of all kinds, such as sustain

  The life of mortal man, Calypso placed

  Before him, both for bev'rage and for food.

  She opposite to the illustrious Chief

  Reposed, by her attendant maidens served

  With nectar and ambrosia. They their hands

  Stretch'd forth together to the ready feast, 240

  And when nor hunger more nor thirst remain'd

  Unsated, thus the beauteous nymph began.

  Laertes' noble son, for wisdom famed

  And artifice! oh canst thou thus resolve

  To seek, incontinent, thy native shores?

  I pardon thee. Farewell! but could'st thou guess

  The woes which fate ordains thee to endure

  Ere yet thou reach thy country, well-content

  Here to inhabit, thou would'st keep my grot

  And be immortal, howsoe'er thy wife 250

  Engage thy ev'ry wish day after day.

  Yet can I not in stature or in form

  Myself suspect inferior aught to her,

  Since competition cannot be between

  Mere mortal beauties, and a form divine.

  To whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied.

  Awful Divinity! be not incensed.

  I know that my Penelope in form

  And stature altogether yields to thee,

  For she is mortal, and immortal thou, 260

  From age exempt; yet not the less I wish

  My home, and languish daily to return.

  But should some God amid the sable Deep

  Dash me again into a wreck, my soul

  Shall bear _that_ also; for, by practice taught,

  I have learned patience, having much endured

  By tempest and in battle both. Come then

  This evil also! I am well prepared.

  He ended, and the sun sinking, resign'd

  The earth to darkness. Then in a recess 270

  Interior of the cavern, side by side

  Reposed, they took their amorous delight.

  But when Aurora, daughter of the dawn,

  Look'd rosy forth, Ulysses then in haste

  Put on his vest and mantle, and, the nymph

  Her snowy vesture of transparent woof,

  Graceful, redundant; to her waist she bound

  Her golden zone, and veil'd her beauteous head,

  Then, musing, plann'd the noble Chief's return.

  She gave him, fitted to the grasp, an ax 280

  Of iron, pond'rous, double-edg'd, with haft

  Of olive-wood, inserted firm, and wrought

  With curious art. Then, placing in his hand

  A polish'd adze, she led, herself, the way

  To her isles' utmost verge, where tallest trees

  But dry long since and sapless stood, which best

  Might serve his purposes, as buoyant most,

  The alder, poplar, and cloud-piercing fir.

  To that tall grove she led and left him there,

  Seeking her grot again. Then slept not He, 290

  But, swinging with both hands the ax, his task

  Soon finish'd; trees full twenty to the ground

  He cast, which, dext'rous, with his adze he smooth'd,

  The knotted surface chipping by a line.

  Meantime the lovely Goddess to his aid

  Sharp augres brought, with which he bored the beams,

  Then, side by side placing them, fitted each

  To other, and with long cramps join'd them all.

  Broad as an artist, skill'd in naval works,

  The bottom of a ship of burthen spreads, 300

  Such breadth Ulysses to his raft assign'd.

  He deck'd her over with long planks, upborne

  On massy beams; He made the mast, to which

  He added suitable the yard;--he framed

  Rudder and helm to regulate her course,

  With wicker-work he border'd all her length

  For safety, and much ballast stow'd within.

  Meantime, Calypso brought him for a sail

  Fittest materials, which he also shaped,

  And to his sail due furniture annex'd 310

  Of cordage strong, foot-ropes, and ropes aloft,

  Then heav'd her down with levers to the Deep.

  He finish'd all his work on the fourth day,

  And on the fifth, Calypso, nymph divine,

  Dismiss'd him from her isle, but laved him first,

  And cloath'd him in sweet-scented garments new.

  Two skins the Goddess also placed on board,

  One charg'd with crimson wine, and ampler one

  With water, nor a bag with food replete

  Forgot, nutritious, grateful to the taste, 320

  Nor yet, her latest gift, a gentle gale

  And
manageable, which Ulysses spread,

  Exulting, all his canvas to receive.

  Beside the helm he sat, steering expert,

  Nor sleep fell ever on his eyes that watch'd

  Intent the Pleiads, tardy in decline

  Bootes, and the Bear, call'd else the Wain,

  Which, in his polar prison circling, looks

  Direct toward Orion, and alone

  Of these sinks never to the briny Deep. 330

  That star the lovely Goddess bade him hold

  Continual on his left through all his course.

  Ten days and sev'n, he, navigating, cleav'd

  The brine, and on the eighteenth day, at length,

  The shadowy mountains of Phæacia's land

  Descried, where nearest to his course it lay

  Like a broad buckler on the waves afloat.

  But Neptune, now returning from the land

  Of Ethiopia, mark'd him on his raft

  Skimming the billows, from the mountain-tops 340

  Of distant Solyma. With tenfold wrath

  Inflamed that sight he view'd, his brows he shook,

  And thus within himself, indignant, spake.

  So then--new counsels in the skies, it seems,

  Propitious to Ulysses, have prevail'd

  Since Æthiopia hath been my abode.

  He sees Phæacia nigh, where he must leap

  The bound'ry of his woes; but ere that hour

  Arrive, I will ensure him many a groan.

  So saying, he grasp'd his trident, gather'd dense 350

  The clouds and troubled ocean; ev'ry storm

  From ev'ry point he summon'd, earth and sea

  Darkening, and the night fell black from heav'n.

  The East, the South, the heavy-blowing West,

  And the cold North-wind clear, assail'd at once

  His raft, and heaved on high the billowy flood.

  All hope, all courage, in that moment, lost,

  The Hero thus within himself complain'd.

  Wretch that I am, what destiny at last

  Attends me! much I fear the Goddess' words 360

  All true, which threaten'd me with num'rous ills

  On the wide sea, ere I should reach my home.

  Behold them all fulfill'd! with what a storm

  Jove hangs the heav'ns, and agitates the Deep!

  The winds combined beat on me. Now I sink!

  Thrice blest, and more than thrice, Achaia's sons

  At Ilium slain for the Atridæ' sake!

  Ah, would to heav'n that, dying, I had felt

  That day the stroke of fate, when me the dead

  Achilles guarding, with a thousand spears 370

  Troy's furious host assail'd! Funereal rites

  I then had shared, and praise from ev'ry Greek,

  Whom now the most inglorious death awaits.

  While thus he spake, a billow on his head

  Bursting impetuous, whirl'd the raft around,

  And, dashing from his grasp the helm, himself

  Plunged far remote. Then came a sudden gust

  Of mingling winds, that in the middle snapp'd

  His mast, and, hurried o'er the waves afar,

  Both sail and sail-yard fell into the flood. 380

  Long time submerged he lay, nor could with ease

  The violence of that dread shock surmount,

  Or rise to air again, so burthensome

  His drench'd apparel proved; but, at the last,

  He rose, and, rising, sputter'd from his lips

  The brine that trickled copious from his brows.

  Nor, harass'd as he was, resign'd he yet

  His raft, but buffetting the waves aside

  With desp'rate efforts, seized it, and again

  Fast seated on the middle deck, escaped. 390

  Then roll'd the raft at random in the flood,

  Wallowing unwieldy, toss'd from wave to wave.

  As when in autumn, Boreas o'er the plain

  Conglomerated thorns before him drives,

  They, tangled, to each other close adhere,

  So her the winds drove wild about the Deep.

  By turns the South consign'd her to be sport

  For the rude North-wind, and, by turns, the East

  Yielded her to the worrying West a prey.

  But Cadmus' beauteous daughter (Ino once, 400

  Now named Leucothea) saw him; mortal erst

  Was she, and trod the earth, but nymph become

  Of Ocean since, in honours shares divine.

  She mark'd his anguish, and, while toss'd he roam'd,

  Pitied Ulysses; from the flood, in form

  A cormorant, she flew, and on the raft

  Close-corded perching, thus the Chief address'd.

  Alas! unhappy! how hast thou incensed

  So terribly the Shaker of the shores,

  That he pursues thee with such num'rous ills? 410

  Sink thee he cannot, wish it as he may.

  Thus do (for I account thee not unwise)

  Thy garments putting off, let drive thy raft

  As the winds will, then, swimming, strive to reach

  Phæacia, where thy doom is to escape.

  Take this. This ribbon bind beneath thy breast,

  Celestial texture. Thenceforth ev'ry fear

  Of death dismiss, and, laying once thy hands

  On the firm continent, unbind the zone,

  Which thou shalt cast far distant from the shore 420

  Into the Deep, turning thy face away.

  So saying, the Goddess gave into his hand

  The wond'rous zone, and, cormorant in form,

  Plunging herself into the waves again

  Headlong, was hidden by the closing flood.

  But still Ulysses sat perplex'd, and thus

  The toil-enduring Hero reason'd sad.

  Alas! I tremble lest some God design

  T' ensnare me yet, bidding me quit the raft.

  But let me well beware how I obey 430

  Too soon that precept, for I saw the land

  Of my foretold deliv'rance far remote.

  Thus, therefore, will I do, for such appears

  My wiser course. So long as yet the planks

  Mutual adhere, continuing on board

  My raft, I will endure whatever woes,

  But when the waves shall shatter it, I will swim,

  My sole resource then left. While thus he mused,

  Neptune a billow of enormous bulk

  Hollow'd into an overwhelming arch 440

  On high up-heaving, smote him. As the wind

  Tempestuous, falling on some stubble-heap,

  The arid straws dissipates ev'ry way,

  So flew the timbers. He, a single beam

  Bestriding, oar'd it onward with his feet,

  As he had urged an horse. His raiment, then,

  Gift of Calypso, putting off, he bound

  His girdle on, and prone into the sea

  With wide-spread palms prepar'd for swimming, fell.

  Shore-shaker Neptune noted him; he shook 450

  His awful brows, and in his heart he said,

  Thus, suff'ring many mis'ries roam the flood,

  Till thou shalt mingle with a race of men

  Heav'n's special favourites; yet even there

  Fear not that thou shalt feel thy sorrows light.

  He said, and scourging his bright steeds, arrived

  At Ægæ, where his glorious palace stands.

  But other thoughts Minerva's mind employ'd

  Jove's daughter; ev'ry wind binding beside,

  She lull'd them, and enjoin'd them all to sleep, 460

  But roused swift Boreas, and the billows broke

  Before Ulysses, that, deliver'd safe

  From a dire death, the noble Chief might mix

  With maritime Phæacia's sons renown'd.

  Two nights he wander'd, and two days, the flood

  Tempest
uous, death expecting ev'ry hour;

  But when Aurora, radiant-hair'd, had brought

  The third day to a close, then ceas'd the wind,

  And breathless came a calm; he, nigh at hand

  The shore beheld, darting acute his sight 470

  Toward it, from a billow's tow'ring top.

  Precious as to his children seems the life

  Of some fond father through disease long time

  And pain stretch'd languid on his couch, the prey

  Of some vindictive Pow'r, but now, at last,

  By gracious heav'n to ease and health restored,

  So grateful to Ulysses' sight appear'd

  Forests and hills. Impatient with his feet

  To press the shore, he swam; but when within

  Such distance as a shout may fly, he came, 480

  The thunder of the sea against the rocks

  Then smote his ear; for hoarse the billows roar'd

  On the firm land, belch'd horrible abroad,

  And the salt spray dimm'd all things to his view.

  For neither port for ships nor shelt'ring cove

  Was there, but the rude coast a headland bluff

  Presented, rocks and craggy masses huge.

  Then, hope and strength exhausted both, deep-groan'd

  The Chief, and in his noble heart complain'd.

  Alas! though Jove hath given me to behold, 490

  Unhoped, the land again, and I have pass'd,

  Furrowing my way, these num'rous waves, there seems

  No egress from the hoary flood for me.

  Sharp stones hem in the waters; wild the surge

  Raves ev'ry where; and smooth the rocks arise;

  Deep also is the shore, on which my feet

  No standing gain, or chance of safe escape.

  What if some billow catch me from the Deep

  Emerging, and against the pointed rocks

  Dash me conflicting with its force in vain? 500

  But should I, swimming, trace the coast in search

  Of sloping beach, haven or shelter'd creek,

  I fear lest, groaning, I be snatch'd again

  By stormy gusts into the fishy Deep,

  Or lest some monster of the flood receive

  Command to seize me, of the many such

  By the illustrious Amphitrite bred;

  For that the mighty Shaker of the shores

  Hates me implacable, too well I know.

  While such discourse within himself he held, 510

  A huge wave heav'd him on the rugged coast,

  Where flay'd his flesh had been, and all his bones

  Broken together, but for the infused

  Good counsel of Minerva azure-eyed.

  With both hands suddenly he seized the rock,

  And, groaning, clench'd it till the billow pass'd.

  So baffled he that wave; but yet again

  The refluent flood rush'd on him, and with force

  Resistless dash'd him far into the sea.