fire from heaven His galley in the midst of the black sea, And all his gallant comrades perished there. Him kindly I received; I cherished him, And promised him a life that ne’er should know Decay or death. But since no god has power To elude or to withstand the purposes Of aegis-bearing Jove, let him depart— If so the sovereign moves him and commands— Over the barren deep. I send him not; For neither ship arrayed with oars have I, Nor seamen, o’er the boundless waste of waves To bear him hence. My counsel I will give, And nothing will I hide that he should know, To place him safely on his native shore.”
The herald Argus-queller answered her:— “Dismiss him thus, and bear in mind the wrath Of Jove, lest it be kindled against thee.”
Thus having said, the mighty Argicide Departed; and the nymph, who now had heard The doom of Jove, sought the greathearted man, Ulysses. Him she found beside the deep, Seated alone, with eyes from which the tears Were never dried; for now no more the nymph Delighted him; he wasted his sweet life In yearning for his home. Night after night He slept constrained within the hollow cave, The unwilling by the fond; and day by day He sat upon the rocks that edged the shore, And in continual weeping and in sighs And vain repinings wore the hours away, Gazing through tears upon the barren deep. The glorious goddess stood by him and spake:—
“Unhappy! sit no longer sorrowing here, Nor waste life thus. Lo! I most willingly Dismiss thee hence. Rise, hew down trees, and bind Their trunks with brazen clamps into a raft, And fasten planks above, a lofty floor, That it may bear thee o’er the dark-blue deep. Bread will I put on board, water, and wine— Red wine, that cheers the heart—and wrap thee well In garments, and send after thee the wind, That safely thou attain thy native shore, If so the gods permit thee, who abide In the broad heaven above, and better know By far than I, and far more wisely judge.”