The spacious vase with ample streams suffice, Heap high the wood, and bid the flames arise. The flames climb round it with a fierce embrace, The fuming waters bubble o'er the blaze.

Herself the chest prepares: in order roll'd

475

The robes, the vests are rang'd, and heaps of gold:
And adding a rich dress inwrought with art,
A gift expressive of her bounteous heart,
Thus spoke to Ithacus: To guard with bands
Insolvable these gifts, thy care demands;
Lest, in thy slumbers on the wat❜ry main,
The hand of rapine make our bounty vain.

480

Then bending with full force, around he roll'd

A labyrinth of bands in fold on fold,

Clos'd with Circæan art. A train attends

485

Around the bath: the bath the king ascends;

(Untasted joy, since that disastrous hour,
He sail'd ill-fated from Calypso's bow'r,
Where, happy as the gods that range the sky,
He feasted ev'ry sense, with ev'ry joy)

490

He bathes; the damsels with officious toil
Shed sweets, shed unguents, in a show'r of oil:
Then o'er his limbs a gorgeous robe he spreads,
And to the feast magnificently treads.

Full where the dome its shining valves expands,
Nausicaa blooming as a goddess stands,

With wond'ring eyes the hero she survey'd,
And graceful thus began the royal maid:

496

Hail godlike stranger! and when heav'n restores To thy fond wish thy long-expected shores, 500 This, ever grateful, in remembrance bear,

To me thou ow'st, to me, the vital air.

O royal maid, Ulysses straight returns,

Whose worth the splendours of thy race adorns,
So may dread Jove (whose arm in vengeance forms
The writhen bolt, and blackens heav'n with storms)
Restore me safe, through weary wand'rings tost,
To my dear country's ever-pleasing coast,
As while the spirit in this bosom glows,
To thee, my goddess, I address my vows;

510

My life, thy gift I boast! He said, and sat,
Fast by Alcinous on a throne of state.
Now each partakes the feast, the wine prepares,
Portions the food, and each his portion shares.
The bard an herald guides: the gazing throng 515
Pay low obeisance as he moves along:
Beneath a sculptur'd arch he sits enthron'd,

The peers encircling form an awful round.

Then from the chine, Ulysses carves with art
Delicious food, an honorary part;

This, let the master of the lyre receive,

520

A pledge of love! 'tis all a wretch can give.
Lives there a man beneath the spacious skies,
Who sacred honours to the bard denies?

The muse the bard inspires, exalts his mind; 525
The muse indulgent loves th' harmonious kind.

The herald to his hand the charge conveys, Not fond of flatt'ry, nor unpleas'd with praise. When now the rage of hunger was allay'd,

Thus to the lyrist wise Ulysses said:

O more than man! thy soul the muse inspires,
Or Phoebus animates with all his fires:
For who by Phoebus uninform'd, could know
The woe of Greece, and sing so well the woe?
Just to the tale, as present at the fray,

530

535

Or taught the labours of the dreadful day!

The song recalls past horrors to my eyes,

And bids proud Ilion from her ashes rise.

Once more harmonious strike the sounding string,
Th' Epæan fabric, fram'd by Pallas, sing:

How stern Ulysses, furious to destroy,
With latent heroes sack'd imperial Troy.

540

If faithful thou record the tale of fame,

The god himself inspires thy breast with flame: And mine shall be the task, henceforth to raise In ev'ry land thy monument of praise.

546

Full of the god he rais'd his lofty strain, How the Greeks rush'd tumultuous to the main: How blazing tents illumin'd half the skies, While from the shores the winged navy flies: 550 How e'en in Ilion's walls, in deathful bands, Came the stern Greeks by Troy's assisting hands: All Troy up-heav'd the steed; of diff'ring mind, Various the Trojans counsell'd; part consign'd The monster to the sword, part sentence gave 555 To plunge it headlong in the whelming wave; Th' unwise award to lodge it in the tow'rs, An off'ring sacred to th' immortal pow'rs: Th' unwise prevail, they lodge it in the walls, And by the gods' decree proud Ilion falls; Destruction enters in the treach'rous wood, And vengeful slaughter, fierce for human blood.

560

He sung the Greeks stern-issuing from the steed, How Ilion burns, how all her fathers bleed : How to thy dome, Deiphobus! ascends The Spartan king; how Ithacus attends,

565

(Horrid as Mars) and how with dire alarms He fights, subdues; for Pallas strings his arms.

Thus while he sung, Ulysses' griefs renew, 569 Tears bathe his cheeks, and tears the ground bedew. As some fond matron views in mortal fight Her husband falling in his country's right: Frantic through clashing swords she runs, she flies, As ghastly pale he groans, and faints, and dies; Close to his breast she grovels on the ground, 575 And bathes with floods of tears the gaping wound; She cries, she shrieks; the fierce insulting foe Relentless mocks her violence of woe: To chains condemn'd, as wildly she deplores; A widow, and a slave on foreign shores.

So from the sluices of Ulysses' eyes

580

Fast fell the tears, and sighs succeeded sighs:
Conceal'd he griev'd: the king observ'd alone
The silent tear, and heard the secret' groan:
Then to the bard aloud: O cease to sing, 585
Dumb be thy voice, and mute the tuneful string:
To ev'ry note his tears responsive flow,

And his great heart heaves with tumultuous woe;
Thy lay too deeply moves: then cease the lay,
And o'er the banquet ev'ry heart be gay:

590