deep; the billow held him long Beneath the waters, and he strove in vain Quickly to rise to air from that huge swell Of ocean, for the garments weighed him down Which fair Calypso gave him. But at length Emerging, he rejected from his throat The bitter brine that down his forehead streamed. Even then, though hopeless with dismay, his thought Was on the raft; and, struggling through the waves, He seized it, sprang on board, and, seated there, Escaped the threatened death. Still to and fro The rolling billows drave it. As the wind In autumn sweeps the thistles o’er the field, Clinging together, so the blasts of heaven Hither and thither drove it o’er the sea. And now the south wind flung it to the north To buffet; now the east wind to the west.
Ino Leucothea saw him clinging there— The delicate-footed child of Cadmus, once A mortal, speaking with a mortal voice, Though now within the ocean gulfs she shares The honors of the gods. With pity she Beheld Ulysses struggling thus distressed, And, rising from the abyss below, in form A cormorant, the sea-nymph took her perch On the well-banded raft, and thus she said:—
“Ah, luckless man! how hast thou angered thus Earthshaking Neptune, that he visits thee With these disasters? Yet he cannot take, Although he seek it earnestly, thy life.
Now do my bidding, for thou seemest wise. Laying aside thy garments, let the raft Drift with the winds, while thou, by strength of arm, Makest thy way in swimming to the land Of the Phaeacians, where thy safety lies.
Receive this veil, and bind its heavenly woof Beneath thy breast, and have no further fear Of hardship or of danger. But, as soon As thou shalt touch the island, take it off, And turn away thy face, and fling it far From where thou standest into the black deep.”