“Onward we sailed, with sorrow in our hearts For our lost friends, though glad to be reprieved From death. And now we landed at an isle— Aeaea, where the fair-haired Circè dwelt, A goddess high in rank and skilled in song, Own sister of the wise Aeaetes. Both Were children of the source of light, the Sun, And Persè, Ocean’s daughter, brought them forth.
We found a haven here, where ships might lie; And guided by some deity we brought Our galley silently against the shore, And disembarked, and gave two days and nights To rest, unmanned with hardship and with grief.
“When bright-haired Morning brought the third day round, I took my spear and my good sword, and left The ship, and climbed a height, in hope to spy Some trace of human toil, or hear some voice. On a steep precipice I stood, and saw From the broad earth below a rising smoke, Where midst the thickets and the forest-ground Stood Circè’s palace. Seeing that dark smoke, The thought arose within my mind that there I should inquire. I pondered till at last This seemed the wisest—to return at once To my good ship upon the ocean-side, And give my crew their meal, and send them forth To view the region. Coming to the spot Where lay my well-oared barque, some pitying god Beneath whose eye I wandered forth alone Sent a huge stag into my very path, High-horned, which from his pasture in the wood Descended to the riverside to drink, For grievously he felt the hot sun’s power. Him as he ran I smote; the weapon pierced, Just at the spine, the middle of his back. The brazen blade passed through, and with a moon He fell amid the dust, and yielded up His life. I went to him, and set my foot