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While yet I speak, the shade disdains to stay.
In silence turns, and sullen stalks away.

Book XI.

Published 1 October 1806. by FJ.Du Roveray London.


Now to the shores we bend, a mournful train,
Climb the tall bark, and launch into the main:
At once the mast we rear, at once unbind
The spacious sheet, and stretch it to the wind:
Then pale and pensive stand, with cares opprest, 5
And solemn horror saddens ev'ry breast.
A fresh'ning breeze the magic pow'r supply'd,
While the wing'd vessel flew along the tide;
Our oars we shipp'd: all day the swelling sails
Full from the guiding pilot catch'd the gales. 10

Now sunk the sun from his aërial height,
And o'er the shaded billows rush'd the night:
When lo! we reach'd old Ocean's utmost bounds,
Where rocks control his waves with ever-during

There in a lonely land, and gloomy cells, 15 The dusky nation of Cimmeria dwells;

The sun ne'er views th' uncomfortable seats,

When radiant he advances, or retreats:

Unhappy race! whom endless night invades,

Clouds the dull air, and wraps them round in


The ship we moor on these obscure abodes; Disbark the sheep, an off'ring to the gods; And hell-ward bending, o'er the beach descry The dolesome passage to th' infernal sky.


The victims, vow'd to each Tartarean pow'r, 25 Eurylochus and Perimedes bore.


Here open'd hell, all hell I here implor'd, And from the scabbard drew the shining sword; And trenching the black earth on ev'ry side, A cavern form'd, a cubit long and wide. New wine, with honey-temper'd milk, we bring, Then living waters from the crystal spring; O'er these was strew'd the consecrated flour,

And on the surface shone the holy store.

Now the wan shades we hail, th' infernal



To speed our course, and waft us o'er the floods:

So shall a barren heifer from the stall

Beneath the knife upon your altars fall;

So in our palace, at our safe return,

Rich with unnumber'd gifts the pile shall burn;

So shall a ram the largest of the breed,
Black as these regions, to Tiresias bleed.


Thus solemn rites and holy vows we paid To all the phantom-nations of the dead. Then died the sheep; a purple torrent flow'd, 45 And all the caverns smok'd with streaming blood. When lo! appear'd along the dusky coasts, Thin, airy shoals of visionary ghosts;

Fair, pensive youths, and soft enamour'd maids; And wither'd elders, pale and wrinkled shades; 50 Ghastly with wounds the forms of warriors slain Stalk'd with majestic port, a martial train:

These and a thousand more swarm'd o'er the


And all the dire assembly shriek'd around.


Astonish'd at the sight, aghast I stood,
And a cold fear ran shiv'ring through my blood;
Straight I command the sacrifice to haste,

Straight the flay'd victims to the flames are cast,
And mutter'd vows, and mystic song apply'd
To grisly Pluto, and his gloomy bride.


Now swift I wav'd my falchion o'er the blood; Back started the pale throngs, and trembling


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