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Grave Eteoneus saw the pomp appear,

And speeding, thus address'd the royal ear.


Two youths approach, whose semblant features prove Their blood devolving from the source of Jove. Is due reception deign'd, or must they bend Their doubtful course to seek a distant friend? Insensate! (with a sigh the king replies), Too long, misjudging, have I thought thee wise: But sure relentless folly steels thy breast, Obdurate to reject the stranger-guest; To those dear hospitable rites a foe,

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Which in my wanderings oft reliev'd my woe:
Fed by the bounty of another's board,
Till pitying Jove my native realm restor'd
Straight be the coursers from the car releast,
Conduct the youths to grace the genial feast.'
The seneschal rebuk'd in haste withdrew;
With equal haste a menial train pursue:
Part led the coursers, from the car enlarg'd,
Each to a crib with choicest grain surcharg'd;
Part in a portico, profusely grac'd
With rich magnificence, the chariot plac'd:
Then to the dome the friendly pair invite,
Who eye the dazzling roofs with vast delight;
Resplendent as the blaze of summer-noon,
Or the pale radiance of the midnight moon.
From room to room their eager view they bend;
Thence to the bath, a beauteous pile, descend;
Where a bright damsel-train attend the guests
With liquid odours, and embroider'd vests.






Refresh'd, they wait them to the bower of state,
Where circled with his peers Atrides sate:
Thron'd next the king, a fair attendant brings

The purest product of the crystal springs;
High on a massy vase of silver mold,


The burnish'd laver flames with solid gold;
In solid gold the purple vintage flows,

And on the board a second banquet rose.
When thus the king with hospitable port:-
Accept this welcome to the Spartan court;
The waste of nature let the feast repair,


Then your high lineage and your names declare;

Say from what scepter'd ancestry ye claim,
Recorded eminent in deathless fame?
For vulgar parents cannot stamp their race
With signatures of such majestic grace.
Ceasing, benevolent he straight assigns
The royal portion of the choicest chines
To each accepted friend: with grateful haste
They share the honours of the rich repast.
Suffic'd, soft whispering thus to Nestor's son,
His head reclin'd, young Ithacus begun.

View'st thou unmov'd, O ever-honour'd most!
These prodigies of art, and wondrous cost!
Above, beneath, around the palace shines
The sumless treasure of exhausted mines:
The spoils of elephants the roofs inlay,
And studded amber darts a golden ray :
Such, and not nobler, in the realms above
My wonder dictates is the dome of Jove.





The monarch took the word, and grave reply'd.
Presumptuous are the vaunts, and vain the pride
Of man, who dares in pomp with Jove contest,
Unchang'd, immortal, and supremely blest!
With all my affluence when my woes are weigh'd, 95
Envy will own, the purchase dearly paid.

For eight slow-circling years by tempests tost,
From Cyprus to the fair Phoenician coast

(Sidon the capital), I stretch'd my toil

Through regions fatten'd with the flows of Nile. 100
Next, Ethiopia's utmost bound explore,
And the parch'd borders of th' Arabian shore:
Then warp my voyage on the southern gales,
O'er the warm Libyan wave to spread my sails:
That happy clime! where each revolving year
The teeming ewes a triple offspring bear;
And two fair crescents of translucent horn
The brows of all their young increase adorn:
The shepherd swains, with sure abundance blest,
On the fat flock and rural dainties feast;



Nor want of herbage makes the dairy fail,
But every season fills the foaming pail.

Whilst, heaping unwish'd wealth, I distant roam; The best of brothers at his natal home,


By the dire fury of a traitress wife,

Ends the sad evening of a stormy life:
Whence with incessant grief my soul annoy'd,
These riches are possess'd, but not enjoy'd!
My wars, the copious theme of every tongue;
To you, your fathers have recorded long:
How favouring heaven repaid my glorious toils
With a sack'd palace, and barbaric spoils.
Oh! had the gods so large a boon deny'd,
And life, the just equivalent, supply'd
To those brave warriors, who, with glory fir'd,
Far from their country in my cause expir'd!
Still in short intervals of pleasing woe,
Regardful of the friendly dues I owe,
I to the glorious dead, for ever dear!
Indulge the tribute of a grateful tear.
But oh! Ulysses-deeper than the rest
That sad idea wounds my anxious breast!
My heart bleeds fresh with agonising pain;




The bowl and tasteful viands tempt in vain;

Nor sleep's soft power can close my streaming eyes, When imag'd to my soul his sorrows rise.


No peril in my cause he ceas'd to prove,
His labours equall'd only by my love:
And both alike to bitter fortune born,
For him to suffer, and for me to mourn!
Whether he wanders on some friendless coast,
Or glides in Stygian gloom a pensive ghost,
No fame reveals; but, doubtful of his doom,
His good old sire with sorrow to the tomb
Declines his trembling steps; untimely care
Withers the blooming vigour of his heir;
And the chaste partner of his bed and throne
Wastes all her widow'd hours in tender moan.
While thus pathetic to the prince he spoke,



From the brave youth the streaming passion broke:
Studious to veil the grief, in vain represt,
His face he shrouded with his purple vest:


The conscious monarch pierc'd the coy disguise,
And view'd his filial love with vast surprise:
Dubious to press the tender theme, or wait
To hear the youth inquire his father's fate.


la this suspense bright Helen grac'd the room; Before her breath'd a gale of rich perfume.

So moves, adorn'd with each attractive grace,
The silver-shafted goddess of the chace!
The seat of majesty, Adraste brings,
With art illustrious, for the pomp of kings;
To spread the pall (beneath the regal chair)
Of softest woof, is bright Alcippe's care.


A silver canister, divinely wrought,


In her soft hands the beauteous Phylo brought;
To Sparta's queen of old the radiant vase
Alcandra gave, a pledge of royal grace:
For Polybus her lord (whose sovereign sway
The wealthy tribes of Pharian Thebes obey),
When to that court Atrides came, carest
With vast munificence th' imperial guest:
Two lavers from the richest ore refin'd,
With silver tripods the kind host assign'd;


And bounteous from the royal treasure told


Ten equal talents of refulgent gold.
Alcandra, consort of his high command,
A golden distaff gave to Helen's hand;

And that rich vase, with living sculpture wrought,
Which heap'd with wool the beauteous Phylo brought:
The silken fleece impurpled for the loom,
Rival'd the hyacinth in vernal bloom.

The sovereign seat then Jove-born Helen press'd,
And pleasing thus her scepter'd lord address'd.


Who grace our palace now, that friendly pair, 185 Speak they their lineage, or their names declare? Uncertain of the truth, yet uncontroul'd Hear me the bodings of my breast unfold. With wonder wrapt, on yonder cheek I trace The feature of the Ulyssean race: Diffus'd o'er each resembling line appear,


In just similitude, the grace and air
Of young Telemachus! the lovely boy,
Who bless'd Ulysses with a father's joy,

What time the Greeks combin'd their social arms, T'avenge the stain of my ill-fated charms!

Just is thy thought, the king assenting cries, Methinks Ulysses strikes my wandering eyes:


Full shines the father in the filial frame,

His port, his features, and his shape, the same: 200
Such quick regards his sparkling eyes bestow;

Such wavy ringlets o'er his shoulders flow!
And when he heard the long disastrous store
Of cares, which in my cause Ulysses bore;'
Dismay'd, heart-wounded with paternal woes,
Above restraint the tide of sorrow rose:
Cautious to let the gushing grief appear,
His purple garment veil'd the falling tear.
See there confest, Pisistratus replies,
The genuine worth of Ithacus the wise!
Of that heroic sire the youth is sprung,



But modest awe hath chain'd his timorous tongue.

Thy voice, O king! with pleas'd attention heard,
Is like the dictates of a god rever'd.


With him, at Nestor's high command I came,
Whose age I honour with a parent's name.
By adverse destiny constrain'd to sue
For counsel and redress, he sues to you.
Whatever ill the friendless orphan' bears,
Bereav'd of parents in his infant years,
Still must the wrong'd Telemachus sustain,
If, hopeful of your aid, he hopes in vain:
Affianc'd in your friendly power alone,
The youth would vindicate the vacant throne.
Is Sparta blest, and these desiring eyes
View my friend's son? (the king exulting cries);
Son of my friend, by glorious toils approv❜d,”
Whose sword was sacred to the man he lov'd:
Mirror of constant faith, rever'd, and mourn'd!
When Troy was ruin'd, had the chief return'd,
No Greek an equal space had e'er possest,
Of dear affection in my grateful breast.
I, to confirm the mutual joys we shar'd,
For his abode a capital prepar'd;




Argos the seat of sovereign rule I chose;
Fair in the plan the future palace rose,


Where my Ulysses and his race might reign,

And portion to his tribes the wide domain.
To them my vassals had resign'd a soil,
With teeming plenty to reward their toil.


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