'Inquire not of his doom (the phantom cries), I speak not all the counsel of the skies; Nor must indulge with vain discourse, or long, The windy satisfaction of the tongue.'

Swift through the valve the visionary fair Repass'd, and viewless mix'd with common air. The queen awakes, deliver'd of her woes: With florid joy, her heart dilating glows: The vision, manifest of future fate, Makes her with hope her son's arrival wait. Meantime the suitors plough the watery plain, Telemachus in thought already slain! When sight of lessening Ithaca was lost, Their sail directed for the Samian coast, A small but verdant isle appear'd in view, And Asteris the' advancing pilot knew: An ample port the rocks projected form, To break the rolling waves and ruffling storm: That safe recess they gain with happy speed, And in close ambush wait the murderous deed.

BOOK V.

The Argument.

THE DEPARTURE OF ULYSSES FROM CALYPSO.

Pallas, in a council of the gods, complains of the detention of Ulysses in the island of Calypso; whereupon Mercury is sent to command his removal. The seat of Calypso described. She consents with much difficulty, and Ulysses builds a vessel with his own hands, on which he embarks. Neptune overtakes him with a terrible tempest, in which he is shipwrecked, and in the last danger of death; till Leucothea, a seagoddess, assists him, and after innumerable perils he gets ashore on Phæacia.

THE saffron morn, with early blushes spread,
Now rose refulgent from Tithonus' bed;
With new-born day to gladden mortal sight,
And gild the courts of heaven with sacred light.
Then met the' eternal synod of the sky,
Before the god who thunders from on high,
Supreme in might, sublime in majesty.
Pallas, to these, deplores the' unequal fates
Of wise Ulysses, and his toils relates;
Her hero's danger touch'd the pitying power,
The nymph's seducements, and the magic bower.
Thus she began her plaint― Immortal Jove!
And you who fill the blissful seats above!
Let kings no more with gentle mercy sway,
Or bless a people willing to obey,
But crush the nations with an iron rod,
And

every monarch be the scourge of god,