The Odysseys of Homer, together with the shorter poems. Homer

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       ‭ Of slaughter’d bulls we burn’d for sacrifice.

       ‭ The fourth day came, when Tydeus’ son did greet

       ‭ The haven of Argos with his cómplete fleet.

       ‭ But I for Pylos straight steer’d on my course;

       ‭ Nor ever left the wind his foreright force,

       ‭ Since God fore-sent it first. And thus I came,

       ‭ Dear son, to Pylos, uninform’d by fame,

       ‭ Nor know one sav’d by Fate, or overcome.

       ‭ Whom I have heard of since, set here at home,

       ‭ As fits, thou shalt be taught, nought left unshown.

       ‭ The expert spear-men, ev’ry Myrmidon,

       ‭ Led by the brave heir of the mighty-soul’d

       ‭ Unpeer’d Achilles, safe of home got hold;

       ‭ Safe Philoctetes, Pœan’s famous seed;

       ‭ And safe Idomenæus his men led

       ‭ To his home, Crete, who fled the arméd field,

       ‭ Of whom yet none the sea from him withheld.

       ‭ Atrides, you have both heard, though ye be

       ‭ His far-off dwellers, what an end had he,

       ‭ Done by Ægisthus to a bitter death;

       ‭ Who miserably paid for forcéd breath,

       ‭ Atrides leaving a good son, that dyed,

       ‭ In blood of that deceitful parricide,

       ‭ His wreakful sword. And thou my friend, as he

       ‭ For this hath his fame, the like spirit in thee

       ‭ Assume at all parts. Fair and great, I see,

       ‭ Thou art in all hope, make it good to th’ end,

       ‭ That after-times as much may thee commend.”

       ‭ He answer’d: “O thou greatest grace of Greece,

       ‭ Orestes made that wreak his master-piece,

       ‭ And him the Greeks will give a master-praise,

       ‭ Verse finding him to last all after-days.

       ‭ And would to God the Gods would favour me

       ‭ With his performance, that my injury,

       ‭ Done by my mother’s Wooers, being so foul,

       ‭ I might revenge upon their ev’ry soul;

       ‭ Who, pressing me with contumelies, dare

       ‭ Such things as past the pow’r of utt’rance are.

       ‭ But Heav’n’s great Pow’rs have grac’d my destiny

       ‭ With no such honour. Both my sire and I

       ‭ Are born to suffer everlastingly.”

       ‭ “Because you name those Wooers, friend,” said he,

       ‭ “Report says, many such, in spite of thee,

       ‭ Wooing thy mother, in thy house commit

       ‭ The ills thou nam’st. But say: Proceedeth it

       ‭ From will in thee to bear so foul a foil?

       ‭ Or from thy subjects’ hate, that wish thy spoil,

       ‭ And will not aid thee, since their spirits rely,

       ‭ Against thy rule, on some grave augury?

       ‭ What know they, but at length thy father may

       ‭ Come, and with violence their violence pay;

       ‭ Or he alone, or all the Greeks with him?

       ‭ But if Minerva now did so esteem

       ‭ Thee, as thy father in times past; whom, past

       ‭ All measure, she with glorious favours grac’t

       ‭ Amongst the Trojans, where we suffer’d so;

       ‭ (O! I did never see, in such clear show,

       ‭ The Gods so grace a man, as she to him,

       ‭ To all our eyes, appear’d in all her trim)

       ‭ If so, I say, she would be pleas’d to love,

       ‭ And that her mind’s care thou so much couldst move,

       ‭ As did thy father, ev’ry man of these

       ‭ Would lose in death their seeking marriages.”

       ‭ “O father,” answer’d he, “you make amaze

       ‭ Seize me throughout. Beyond the height of phrase

       ‭ You raise expression; but ’twill never be,

       ‭ That I shall move in any Deity

       ‭ So blest an honour. Not by any means,

       ‭ If Hope should prompt me, or blind Confidence,

       ‭ (The Gods of Fools) or ev’ry Deity

       ‭ Should will it; for ’tis past my destiny.”

       ‭ The burning-eyed Dame answer’d: “What a speech

       ‭ Hath past the teeth-guard Nature gave to teach

       ‭ Fit question of thy words before they fly!

       ‭ God easily can [1] (when to mortal eye

       ‭ He’s furthest off) a mortal satisfy;

       ‭ And does the more still. For thy car’d-for sire,

       ‭ I rather wish, that I might home retire,

       ‭ After my suff’rance of a world of woes,

       ‭ Far off, and then my glad eyes might disclose

       ‭ The day of my return, then straight retire,

       ‭ And perish standing by my household fire;

       ‭ As Agamemnon did, that lost his life

       ‭ By false Ægisthus, and his falser wife.

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