If to the right to urge the pilot's toil,

The safer road,) beside the Psyrian isle:
Or the straight course to rocky Chios plough,
And anchor under Mimas shaggy brow?
We sought direction of the power divine:
The god propitious gave the guiding sign;
Through the mid seas he bid our navy steer,
And in Eubœ shun the woes we fear.

The whistling winds already waked the sky;
Before the whistling winds the vessels fly,
With rapid swiftness cut the liquid way,
And reach Gerestus at the point of day.
There hecatombs of bulls, to Neptune slain,
High-flaming please the monarch of the main.
The fourth day shone, when all their labours o'er
Tydides' vessels touch'd the wish'd-for shore.
But I to Pylos scud before the gales,

The god still breathing on my swelling sails;
Separate from all, I safely landed here;
Their fates or fortunes never reach'd my ear.
Yet what I learn'd, attend; as here I sate,
And ask'd each voyager each hero's fate,
Curious to know, and willing to relate.

Safe reach'd the Myrmidons their native land,
Beneath Achilles' warlike son's command.
Those, whom the heir of great Apollo's art,
Brave Philoctetes, taught to wing the dart;
And those whom Idomen from Ilion's plain
Had led, securely cross'd the dreadful main.
How Agamemnon touch'd his Argive coast,
And how his life by fraud and force he lost,
And how the murderer paid his forfeit breath;
What lands so distant from that scene of death
But trembling heard the fame; and heard, admire
How well the son appeased his slaughter'd sire,
Even to the unhappy, that unjustly bleed,
Heaven gives posterity, to avenge the deed.
So fell Egysthus; and mayest thou, my friend
(On whom the virtue of thy sire descend,)
Make future times thy equal act adore,
And be what brave Orestes was before!

The prudent youth replied: O thou the grace
And lasting glory of the Grecian race!
Just was the vengeance, and to latest days
Shall long posterity resound the praise.
Some god this arm with equal prowess bless!
And the proud suitors shall its force confess;
Injurious men who while my soul is sore
Of fresh affronts, are meditating more.
But Heaven denies this honour to my hand,
Nor shall my father repossess the land:
The father's fortune never to return,
And the sad son's to suffer and to mourn.
Thus he and Nestor took the word: My son,
Is it then true, as distant rumours run,
That crowds of rivals for thy mother's charms
Thy palace fill with insults and alarms?
Say, is the fault through tame submission, thine;
Or leagued against thee, do thy people join,
Moved by some oracle or voice divine?
And yet who knows, but ripening lies in fate
An hour of vengeance for the afflicted state;
When great Ulysses shall suppress these harms,
Ulysses singly, or all Greece in arms.
But if Athena, war's triumphant maid,
The happy son will, as the father, aid,
(Whose fame and safety was her constant care
In every danger and in every war:

Never on man did heavenly favour shine
With rays so strong, distinguish'd, and divine,
As those with which Minerva mark'd thy sire)
So might she love thee, so thy soul inspire!
So should their hopes in humble dust be laid,
210 And long oblivion of the bridal bed.

Ah! no such hope (the prince with sighs replies) Can touch my breast; that blessing heaven denies. Even by celestial favour were it given, 281 Fortune or fate would cross the will of Heaven.

What words are these, and what imprudence thine ?
(Thus interposed the martial maid divine)
Forgetful youth! but know, the Power above

With ease can save each object of his love;
Wide as his will, extends his boundless grace;
220 Nor lost in time, nor circumscribed by place.
Happier his lot, who, many sorrows past,
Long labouring, gains his natal shore at last;
Than who, too speedy, hastes to end his life
By some stern ruffian, or adulterous wife.
Death only is the lot which none can miss,
And all is possible to Heaven, but this.
The best, the dearest favourite of the sky
Must taste that cup, for man is born to die.

290

Thus check'd, replied Ulysses' prudent heir: 230 Mentor, no more-the mournful thought forbear; For he no more must draw his country's breath, Already snatch'd by fate, and the black doom of death!

300

Pass we to other subjects; and engage
On themes remote the venerable sage,
(Who thrice has seen the perishable kind
Of men decay, and through three ages shined
Like gods majestic, and like gods in mind;)
For much he knows, and just conclusions draws
240 From various precedents, and various laws.
O son of Neleus! awful Nestor, tell
How he, the mighty Agamemnon, fell;
By what strange fraud Egysthus wrought, relate, 310
(By force he could not) such a hero's fate?
Lived Menelaüs not in Greece? or where
Was then the martial brother's pious care?
Condemn'd perhaps some foreign shore to tread;
Or sure Egysthus had not dared the deed.

To whom the full of days. Illustrious youth,
250 Attend (though partly thou hast guess'd) the truth.
For had the martial Menelaus found
The ruffian breathing yet on Argive ground,
Nor earth had hid his carcass from the skies,
Nor Grecian virgins shriek'd his obsequies,
But fowls obscene dismember'd his remains,
And dogs had torn him on the naked plains.
While us the works of bloody Mars employ'd,
The wanton youth inglorious peace enjoy'd;
He, stretch'd at ease in Argos' calm recess
260 (Whose stately steeds luxuriant pastures bless,)
With flattery's insinuating art

320

330

Sooth'd the frail queen, and poison'd all her heart.
At first, with worthy shame and decent pride,
The royal dame his lawless suit denied:
For virtue's image yet possess'd her mind,
Taught by a master of the tuneful kind :
Atrides, parting for the Trojan war,
Consign'd the youthful consort to his care.
True to his charge, the bard preserved her long
270 In honour's limits; such the power of song.
But when the gods these objects of their hate
Dragg'd to destruction by the links of fate;

The bard they banish'd from his native soil,
And left all helpless in a desert isle:
There he, the sweetest of the sacred train,
Sung, dying, to the rocks; but sung in vain.
Then virtue was no more; her guard away,
She fell, to lust a voluntary prey.

E'en to the temple stalk'd the adulterous spouse,
With impious thanks, and mockery of vows,
With images, with garments, and with gold;
And odorous fumes from loaded altars roll'd.

Meantime from flaming Troy we cut the way,
With Menelaus, through the curling sea.
But when to Sunium's sacred point we came,
Crown'd with the temple of the Athenian dame;
Atrides pilot, Phrontes, there expired:
(Phrontes, of all the sons of men admired
To steer the bounding bark with steady toil,
When the storm thickens, and the billows boil;)
While yet he exercised the steerman's art,
Apollo touch'd him with his gentle dart;
E'en with the rudder in his hand he fell.
To pay whose honours to the shades of hell,
We check'd our haste, by pious office bound,
And laid our old companion in the ground.

340 He, wandering long, a wider circle made,
And many-languaged nations has survey'd ;
And measured tracks unknown to other ships
Amid the monstrous wonders of the deeps,
(A length of ocean and unbounded sky,
Which scarce the sea-fowl in a year o'erfly :)
Go, then; to Sparta take the watery way,
Thy ship and sailors but for orders stay;
Or, if by land thou choose thy course to bend,
My steeds, my chariots, and my sons, attend:
350 Thee to Atrides they shall safe convey,

Guides of thy road, companions of thy way.
Urge him with truth to frame his free replies,
And sure he will: for Menelaus is wise.

Thus while he speaks the ruddy sun descends,
And twilight gray her evening shade extends.
Then thus the blue-eyed maid: O full of days!
Wise are thy words, and just are all thy ways.
Now immolate the tongues, and mix the wine,
Sacred to Neptune and the powers divine.

360 The lamp of day is quench'd beneath the deep,
And soft approach the balmy hours of sleep:
Nor fits it to prolong the heavenly feast,
Timeless, indecent, but retire to rest.

And now, the rites discharged, our course we keep
Far on the gloomy bosom of the deep:
Soon as Malæa's misty tops arise,

Sudden the Thunderer blackens all the skies,
And the winds whistle, and the surges roll
Mountains on mountains, and obscure the pole.
The tempest scatters, and divides our fleet;
Part, the storm urges on the coast of Crete,
Where winding round the rich Cydonian plain,
The streams of Jardan issue to the main.
There stands a rock, high eminent and steep,
Whose shaggy brow o'erhangs the shady deep,
And views Gortyna on the western side;
On this rough Auster drove the impetuous tide;
With broken force the billows roll'd away,
And heaved the fleet into the neighbouring bay.
Thus saved from death, they gain'd the Phæstan
shores,

With shatter'd vessels and disabled oars:

410

420

430

So spake Jove's daughter, the celestial maid.

The sacred heralds on their hands around

The sober train attended and obey'd.

Pour'd the full urns; the youths the goblets crown'd;
From bowl to bowl the holy beverage flows;
While to the final sacrifice they rose.

370 The tongues they cast upon the fragrant flame,
And pour, above, the consecrated stream.
And now, their thirst by copious draughts allay'd,
The youthful hero and the Athenian maid
Propose departure from the finish'd rite,
And in their hollow bark to pass the night:
But this the hospitable sage denied.
Forbid it, Jove! and all the gods! he cried.
Thus from my walls the much-loved son to send
Of such a hero, and of such a friend!
Me, as some needy peasant, would ye leave,
Whom heaven denies the blessing to relieve?
381 Me would ye leave, who boast imperial sway
When beds of royal state invite your stay?
No-long as life this mortal shall inspire,
Or as my children imitate their sire,

But five tall barks the winds and waters tost,
Far from their fellows, on the Ægyptian coast.
There wander'd Menelaus through foreign shores,
Amassing gold, and gathering naval stores;
While curst Ægysthus the detested deed
By fraud fulfill'd, and his great brother bled.
Seven years, the traitor rich Mycena sway'd,
And his stern rule the groaning land obey'd;
The eighth, from Athens to his realm restored,
Orestes brandish'd the revenging sword,
Slew the dire pair, and gave to funeral flame
The vile assassin and adulterous dame.
That day, ere yet the bloody triumph cease,
Return'd Atrides to the coast of Greece,
And safe to Argos' port his navy brought,
With gifts of price and ponderous treasure fraught.
Hence warn'd, my son, beware! nor idly stand
Too long a stranger to thy native land;

Lest heedless absence wear thy wealth away,
While lawless feasters in thy palace sway;
Perhaps may seize thy realm, and share the spoil;
And thou return, with disappointed toil,
From thy vain journey, to a rifled isle.
Howe'er, my friend, indulge one labour more,
And seek Atrides on the Spartan shore.

Here shall the wandering stranger find his home,
And hospitable rites adorn the dome.

440

450

Well hast thou spoke (the blue-eyed maid re

plies,)

Beloved old man! benevolent as wise.
390 Be the kind dictates of thy heart obey'd,
And let thy words Telemachus persuade :
He to thy palace shall thy steps pursue;
I to the ship, to give the orders due,
Prescribe directions and confirm the crew.
For I alone sustain their naval cares,
Who boast experience from these silver hairs;
All youths the rest, whom to this journey move
Like years, like tempers, and their prince's love.
There in the vessel shall I pass the night;

400 And soon as morning paints the fields of light,
I go to challenge from the Caucons bold,
A debt, contracted in the days of old.
But this thy guest, received with friendly care,
Let thy strong coursers swift to Sparta bear:
Prepare thy chariot at the dawn of day,
And be thy son companion of his way

460

470

Then turning with the word, Minerva flies,
And soars an eagle through the liquid skies.
Vision divine! the throng'd spectators gaze
In holy wonder fix'd, and still amaze.

But chief the reverend sage admired; he took
The hand of young Telemachus, and spoke.
Oh, happy youth! and favour'd of the skies
Distinguish'd care of guardian deities!
Whose early years for future worth engage,
No vulgar manhood, no ignoble age.
For lo none other of the court above
Than she, the daughter of almighty Jove,
Pallas herself, the war-triumphant maid,
Confess'd is thine, as once thy father's aid.
So guide, me goddess! so propitious shine
On me, my consort, and my royal line!

A yearling bullock to thy name shall smoke,
Untamed, unconscious of the galling yoke,
With ample forehead, and yet tender horns,
Whose budding honours ductile gold adorns.
Submissive thus the hoary sire preferr'd
His holy vow: the favouring goddess heard.
Then, slowly rising, o'er the sandy space
Precede the father, follow'd by his race,
(A long procession) timely marching home
In comely order to the regal dome.

The rest may here the pious duty share,
And bid the handmaids for the feast prepare,
The seats to range, the fragrant wood to bring,
And limpid waters from the living spring.

He said, and busy each his care bestow'd;
Already at the gates the bullock low'd,
480 Already came the Ithacensian crew,

550

560

The dextrous smith the tools already drew:
His ponderous hammer and his anvil sound,
And the strong tongs to turn the metal round.
Nor was Minerva absent from the rite,
She view'd her honours, and enjoy'd the sight.
With reverend hand the king presents the gold,
Which round the intorted horns the gilder roll'd,
So wrought, as Pallas might with pride behold.
Young Aretus from forth his bridal bower
490 Brought the full laver, o'er their hands to pour,
And canisters of consecrated flour.
Stratius and Echephron the victim led:
The ax was held by warlike Thrasymed,
In act to strike: before him Perseus stood,
The vase extending to receive the blood.
The king himself initiates to the power;
Scatters with quivering hand the sacred flour,
And the stream sprinkles: from the curling brows
The hair collected in the fire he throws.
Soon as due vows on every part were pai
And sacred wheat upon the victim laid,
Strong Thrasymed discharged the speeding blow 570
Full on his neck, and cut the nerves in two.
Down sunk the heavy beast; the females round,
Maids, wives, and matrons, mix a shrilling sound.
Nor scorn'd the queen the holy choir to join;
(The first-born she, of old Clymeneus' line,
In youth by Nestor loved, of spotless fame,
And loved in age, Eurydice her name.)

510 From earth they rear him, struggling now with death,
And Nestor's youngest stops the vents of breath.
The soul for ever flies: on all sides round
Streams the black blood, and smokes upon the ground.

There when arrived, on thrones around him placed,
His sons, and grandsons the wide circle graced. 500
To these the hospitable sage, in sign
Of social welcome mix'd the racy wine,
(Late from the mellowing cask restored to light,
By ten long years refined, and rosy bright.)
To Pallas high the foaming bowl he crown'd,
And sprinkled large libations on the ground.
Each drinks a full oblivion of his cares,
And to the gifts of balmy sleep repairs.
Deep in a rich alcove the prince was laid,
And slept beneath the pompous colonade :
Fast by his side Pisistratus lay spread,
(In age his equal) on a splendid bed:
But in an inner court, securely closed,
The reverend Nestor and his queen reposed.
When now Aurora, daughter of the dawn,
With rosy lustre purpled o'er the lawn;
The old man early rose, walk'd forth, and sate
In polish'd stone before his palace gate:
With unguents smooth the lucid marble shone,
Where ancient Neleus sate, a rustic throne;
But he descending to the infernal shade,
Sage Nestor fill'd it, and the sceptre sway'd.
His sons around him mild obeisance pay,
And duteous take the orders of the day.
First Echephron and Stratius quit their bed:
Then Perseus, Aretus, and Thrasymed;
The last Pisistratus arose from rest :

The beast they then divide, and disunite

The ribs and limbs, observant of the rite:

On these, in double cawls involved with art,

580

The choicest morsels lay from every part.
The sacred sage before his altar stands,
Turns the burnt-offering with his holy hands,
520 And pours the wine, and bids the flames aspire;
The youth with instruments surround the fire.
The thighs now sacrificed, and entrails dress'd, 590
The assistants part, transfix, and boil the rest.
While these officious tend the rites divine,
The last fair branch of the Nestorean line,
Sweet Polycastè, took the pleasing toil
To bathe the prince, and pour the fragrant oil.
O'er his fair limbs a flowery vest he threw,
And issued, like a god, to mortal view.
530 His former seat beside the king he found,

They came, and near him placed the stranger-guest,
To these the senior thus declared his will:
My sons! the dictates of your sire fulfil.
To Pallas, first of gods, prepare the feast,
Who graced our rites, a more than mortal guest.
Let one, dispatchful, bid some swain to lead
A well-fed bullock from the grassy mead;
One seek the harbour, where the vessels moor,
And bring thy friends, Telemachus! ashore :
(Leave only two the galley to attend.)
Another to Laerceus must we send,
Artist divine, whose skilful hands infold
The victim's horn with circumfusile gold.

(His people's father, with his peers around ;)
All placed at ease the holy banquet join,
And in the dazzling goblet laughs the wine.

The rage of thirst and hunger now suppress'd,
The monarch turns him to his royal guest;
And for the promised journey bids prepare
The smooth-hair'd horses, and the rapid car.
Observant of his word; the word scarce spoke,
The sons obey, and join them to the yoke.
540 Then bread and wine a ready handmaid brings,
And presents, such as suit the state of kings.

600

The glittering seat Telemachus ascends
His faithful guide Pisistratus attends;
With hasty hand the ruling reins he drew :
He lash'd the coursers, and the coursers flew.
Beneath the bounding yoke alike they held
Their equal pace, and smoked along the field.
The towers of Pylos sink, its views decay,
Fields after fields fly back till close of day:
Then sunk the sun, and darken'd all the way.
To Phere now Diocleus' stately seat
(Of Alpheus' race,) the weary youth retreat.
His house affords the hospitable rite,

And pleased they sleep, (the blessing of the night.) To those dear hospitable rites a foe,
But when Aurora, daughter of the dawn,
With rosy lustre purpled o'er the lawn
Again they mount their journey to renew,
And from the sounding portico they flew.
Along the waving fields their way they hold,
The fields receding as their chariot roll'd:
Then slowly sunk the ruddy globe of light,
And o'er the shaded landscape rush'd the night.

Which in my wanderings oft relieved my woe;
Fed by the bounty of another's board,
Till pitying Jove my native realm restored-
Straight be the coursers from the car released,
Conduct the youths to grace the genial feast.

BOOK IV.
ARGUMENT.

The Conference with Menelaus. Telemachus with Pisistratus arriving at Sparta, is hos. pitably received by Menelaus, to whom he relates the cause of his coming, and learns from him many par ticulars of what befel the Greeks since the destruction of Troy. He dwells more at large upon the prophecies of Proteus to him in his return; from which he acquaints Telemachus, that Ulysses is detained in the island of Calypso.

The seneschal, rebuked, in haste withdrew;
With equal haste a menial train pursue:
630 Part led the coursers, from the car enlarged,
Each to a crib with choicest grain surcharged;
Part in a portico, profusely graced
With rich magnificence, the chariot placed:
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 attends 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:
Throned next the king, a fair attendant brings
The purest product of the crystal springs;
High on a massy vase of silver mould,
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.

In the meantime the suitors consult to destroy Telemachus in his voyage home. Penelope is apprised of this; but comforted in a dream by Pallas, in the shape

of her sister Iphthima.

BOOK IV.

AND now proud Sparta with their wheels resounds,
Sparta whose walls a range of hills surrounds:
At the fair dome the rapid labour ends;
Where sate Atrides 'midst his bridal friends,
With double vows invoking Hymen's power,
To bless his son's and daughter's nuptial hour.
That day, to great Achilles' son resign'd,
Hermione, the fairest of her kind,
Was sent to crown the long-protracted joy,
Espoused before the final doom of Troy:
With steeds and gilded cars, a gorgeous train
Attend the nymph to Phthia's distant reign.
Meanwhile at home, to Megapenthes' bed
The virgin-choir Alector's

Brave Megapenthes, from

To great Atrides' age his hand-maid bore:
To Helen's bed the gods alone assign
Hermione, to extend the regal line:
On whom a radiant pomp of graces wait,
Resembling Venus in attractive state.

While this gay friendly troop the king surround,
With festival and mirth the roofs resound:

A bard amid the joyous circle sings
High airs, attemper'd to the vocal strings:
Whilst warbling to the varied strain, advance
Two sprightly youths to form the bounding dance.
"Twas then, that, issuing through the palace gate,
The splendid car roll'd slow in regal state:

Ceasing, benevolent he straight assigns
10 The royal portion of the choicest chines
To each accepted friend: with grateful haste
They share the honours of the rich repast.
Sufficed, soft whispering thus to Nestor's son,
His head reclined, young Ithacus begun:
View'st thou unmoved, 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,
20 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 replied,
Presumptuous are the vaunts, and vain the pride
Of man, who dares in pomp with Jove contest,
Unchanged, immortal, and supremely blest!
With all my affluence when my woes are weigh'd
Envy will own the purchase dearly paid.

40

50

60

70

80

90

For eight slow-circling years by tempests toss'd
From Cyprus to the far Phoenician coast
(Sidon the capital) I stretch'd my toil

A silver canister, divinely wrought,

In her soft hands the beauteous Phylo brought;
To Sparta's queen of old the radiant vase

Through regions fatten'd with the flows of Nile. 100 Alcandra gave, a pledge of royal grace :

Next, Ethiopia's utmost bounds explore,

And the parch'd borders of the 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 denied,
And life, the just equivalent, supplied
To those brave warriors, who, with glory fired,
Far from their country, in my cause expired!
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 agonizing pain;
The bowl and tasteful viands tempt in vain ;

110

170

For Polybus her lord (whose sovereign sway
The wealthy tribes of Pharian Thebes obey,)
When to that court Atrides came, carest
With vast munificence the imperial guest;
Two lavers from the richest ore refined,
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,
Speak they their lineage, or their names declare?
Uncertain of the truth, yet uncontroll'd

120 Hear me the bodings of my breast unfold.

With wonder wrapt, on yonder cheek I trace
The feature of the Ulyssean race:
Diffused 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 combined their social arms,
To avenge the stain of my ill-fated charms!
Just is thy thought, the king assenting cries,

130 Methinks Ulysses strikes my wondering eyes;
Full shines the father in the filial frame,
His port, his features, and his shape the same:
Such quick regards his sparkling eyes bestow
Such wavy ringlets o'er his shoulders flow.

Nor sleep's soft power can close my streaming eyes, And when he heard the long disastrous store

When imaged to my soul his sorrows rise.
No peril in my cause he ceased 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 friendly 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.

181

190

200

210

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,
140 His purple garment veil'd the falling tear.
See there confess'd, 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 pleased attention heard,
Is like the dictates of a god revered.
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,
Bereaved of parents in his infant years,
Still must the wrong'd Telemachus sustain,
If, hopeful of your aid, he hopes in vain :
Affianced 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 approved,
160 Whose sword was sacred to the man he loved:

151

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 pierced 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.
In this suspense bright Helen graced the room;
Before her breathed a gale of rich perfume.
So moves, adorn'd with each attractive grace,
The silver-shafted goddess of the chase.
The seat of majesty Adraste brings.
With arts illustrious for the pomp of kings:
To spread the pall (beneath the regal chair
Of softest woof, is bright Alcippe's care.

220

Mirror of constant faith, revered and mourn'd!-
When Troy was ruin'd, had the chief return'd, 230
No Greek an equal space had e'er possess'd,
Of dear affection, in my grateful breast.