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Lest rash suspicion might alarm thy mind:
Man's of a jealous and mistaking kind.'

'Far from my soul (he cried) the gods efface
All wrath ill grounded, and suspicion base!
Whate'er is honest, stranger, I approve;
And would to Phœbus, Pallas, and to Jove,
Such as thou art, thy thought and mine were one,
Nor thou unwilling to be call'd my son :
In such alliance couldst thou wish to join,
A palace stor'd with treasures should be thine.
But if reluctant, who shall force thy stay?
Jove bids to set the stranger on his way,
And ships shall wait thee with the morning ray.
Till then, let slumber close thy careful eyes;
The wakeful mariners shall watch the skies,
And seize the moment when the breezes rise :
Then gently waft thee to the pleasing shore,
Where thy soul rests, and labour is no more.
Far as Eubæa though thy country lay,
Our ships with ease transport thee in a day.
Thither of old, Earth's giant-son to view,
On wings of winds with Rhadamanth they flew :
This land, from whence their morning course begun,
Saw them returning with the setting sun.
Your eyes shall witness and confirm my tale,
Our youth how dextrous, and how fleet our sail,
When justly tim'd with equal sweep they row,
And ocean whitens in long tracks below.'

Thus he. No word the' experienc'd man replies, But thus to heaven (and heavenward lifts his eyes): Ο Jove! O father! what the king accords Do thou make perfect! sacred be his words! Wide o'er the world Alcinous' glory shine; Let fame be his, and ah! my country mine!'

Meantime Arete, for the hour of rest,
Ordains the fleecy couch, and covering vest :
Bids her fair train the purple quilts prepare,
And the thick carpets spread with busy care.
With torches blazing in their hands they pass'd,
And finish'd all their queen's command with haste :
Then gave the signal to the willing guest :
He rose with pleasure, and retir'd to rest.
There, soft-extended, to the murmuring sound
Of the high porch, Ulysses sleeps profound!
Within, releas'd from cares Alcinous lies ;
And fast beside, were clos'd Arete's eyes.

END OF VOL. I.

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THE

ODYSSEY

OF

HOMER;

TRANSLATED

BY ALEXANDER POPE.

VOL. II.

LONDON:

PRINTED BY C. WHITTINGHAM,

Goswell Street,

FOR J. SHARPE, OPPOSITE ALBANY, PICCADILLY;

W. SUTTABY, STATIONERS' COURT, LUDGATE STREET; AND TAYLOR AND HESSEY, FLEET STREET.

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