withstood the assault And kept our ground, although more numerous they. But when the sun was sloping toward the west The enemy prevailed; the Achaian band Was routed, and was made to flee. That day There perished from each galley of our fleet Six valiant men; the rest escaped with life.
“Onward we sailed, lamenting bitterly Our comrades slain, yet happy to escape From death ourselves. Nor did we put to sea In our good ships until we thrice had called Aloud by name each one of our poor friends Who fell in battle by Ciconian hands.
The Cloud-compeller, Jove, against us sent The north-wind in a hurricane, and wrapped The earth and heaven in clouds, and from the skies Fell suddenly the night. With stooping masts Our galleys scudded; the strong tempest split And tore the sails; we drew and laid them down Within the ships, in fear of utter wreck, And toward the mainland eagerly we turned The rudders.
There we lay two days and nights, Worn out with grief and hardship. When at length The fair-haired Morning brought the third day round, We raised the masts, and, spreading the white sails To take the wind, we sat us down. The wind Carried us forward with the pilot’s aid; And then should I have reached my native land Safely, had not the currents and the waves Of ocean and the north-wind driven me back, What time I strove to pass Maleia’s cape, And swept me to Cytherae from my course.
“Still onward driven before those baleful winds Across the fishy deep for nine whole days, On the tenth day we reached the land where dwell The Lotus-eaters, men whose food is flowers. We landed on the mainland, and our crews Near the fleet galleys took their evening meal. And when we all had eaten and had drunk I sent explorers forth—two chosen men, A herald was the third—to learn what race Of mortals nourished by the fruits of earth Possessed the land. They went and found themselves