And dreaded might, who kindly welcomed me, And cherished me, and would have made my life Immortal, and beyond the power of age In all the coming time. And there I wore Seven years away, still moistening with my tears The ambrosial raiment which the goddess gave.
But when the eighth year had begun its round She counselled my departure, whether Jove Had so required, or she herself had changed Her purpose. On a raft made strong with clamps She placed me, sent on board an ample store Of bread and pleasant wine, and made me put Ambrosial garments on, and gave a soft And favorable wind.
For seventeen days I held my steady course across the deep, And on the eighteenth day the shadowy heights Of your own isle appeared, and then my heart, Ill-fated as I was, rejoiced.
Yet still Was I to struggle with calamities Sent by earthshaking Neptune, who called up The winds against me, and withstood my way, And stirred the boundless ocean to its depths.
Nor did the billows surfer me to keep My place, but swept me, groaning, from the raft, Whose planks they scattered.
Still I labored through The billowy depth, and swam, till wind and wave Drove me against your coast.
As there I sought To land, I found the surges hurrying me Against huge rocks that lined the frightful shore, But, turning back, I swam again and reached A river and the landing-place I wished. Smooth, without rocks, and sheltered from the wind. I swooned, but soon revived. Ambrosial night Came on. I left the Jove-descended stream And slept among the thickets, drawing round My limbs the withered leaves, while on my lids A deity poured bounteously the balm Of slumber. All night long, among the leaves, I slept, with all that sorrow in my heart, Till morn, till noon.