“Now woe is me! as soon as Jove has shown What I had little hoped to see, the land, And I through all these waves have ploughed my way, I find no issue from the hoary deep. For sharp rocks border it, and all around Roar the wild surges; slippery cliffs arise Close to deep gulfs, and footing there is none Where I might plant my steps and thus escape. All effort now were fruitless to resist The mighty billow hurrying me away To dash me on the pointed rocks. If yet I strive, by swimming further, to descry Some sloping shore or harbor of the isle, I fear the tempest, lest it hurl me back, Heavily groaning, to the fishy deep; Or huge sea-monster, from the multitude Which sovereign Amphitritè feeds, be sent Against me by some god—for well I know The power who shakes the shores is wroth with me.”
While he revolved these doubts within his mind, A huge wave hurled him toward the rugged coast. Then had his limbs been flayed, and all his bones Broken at once, had not the blue-eyed maid, Minerva, prompted him. Borne toward the rock, He clutched it instantly with both his hands, And panting clung till that huge