fellow-voyagers, however worn
With num’rous hardships, hear! for neither West
Know ye, nor East, where rises, or where sets
The all-enlight’ning sun. But let us think,
If thought perchance may profit us, of which
Small hope I see; for when I lately climb’d
Yon craggy rock, plainly I could discern
The land encompass’d by the boundless Deep.
The isle is flat, and in the midst I saw
Dun smoke ascending from an oaken bow’r.

   So I, whom hearing, they all courage lost,
And at remembrance of Antiphatas
The Læstrygonian, and the Cyclops’ deeds,
Ferocious feeder on the flesh of man,
Mourn’d loud and wept, but tears could nought avail.
Then numb’ring man by man, I parted them
In equal portions, and assign’d a Chief
To either band, myself to these, to those
Godlike Eurylochus. This done, we cast
The lots into the helmet, and at once
Forth sprang the lot of bold Eurylochus.
He went, and with him of my people march’d
Twenty and two, all weeping; nor ourselves
Wept less, at separation from our friends.
Low in a vale, but on an open spot,
They found the splendid house of Circe, built
With hewn and polish’d stones; compass’d she dwelt
By lions on all sides and mountain-wolves
Tamed by herself with drugs of noxious pow’rs.
Nor were they mischievous, but as my friends
Approach’d, arising on their hinder feet,
Paw’d them in blandishment, and wagg’d the tail.
As, when from feast he rises, dogs around
Their master fawn, accustom’d to receive
The sop conciliatory from his hand,
Around my people, so, those talon’d wolves
And lions fawn’d. They, terrified, that troop
Of savage monsters horrible beheld.
And now, before the Goddess’ gates arrived,
They heard the voice of Circe singing sweet
Within, while, busied at the loom, she wove
An ample web immortal, such a work
Transparent, graceful, and of bright design
As hands of Goddesses alone produce.
Thus then Polites, Prince of men, the friend
Highest in my esteem, the rest bespake.

   Ye hear the voice, comrades, of one who weaves
An ample web within, and at her task
So sweetly chaunts that all the marble floor
Re-echoes; human be she or divine
I doubt, but let us call, that we may learn.

   He ceas’d; they call’d; soon issuing at the sound,
The Goddess open’d wide her splendid gates,
And bade them in; they, heedless, all complied,
All save Eurylochus, who fear’d a snare.
She, introducing them, conducted each
To a bright throne, then gave them Pramnian wine,
With grated cheese, pure meal, and honey new,
But medicated with her pois’nous drugs
Their food, that in oblivion they might lose
The wish of home. She gave them, and they drank,—
When, smiting each with her enchanting wand,
She shut them in her sties. In head, in voice,
In body, and in bristles they became
All swine, yet intellected as before,
And at her hand were dieted alone
With acorns, chestnuts, and the cornel-fruit,
Food grateful ever to the grovelling swine.

   Back flew Eurylochus toward the ship,
To tell the woeful tale; struggling to speak,
Yet speechless, there he stood, his heart transfixt
With anguish, and his eyes deluged with tears.
Me boding terrours occupied. At length,
When, gazing on him, all had oft enquired,
He thus rehearsed to us the dreadful change.

   Renown’d Ulysses! as thou bad’st, we went
Through yonder oaks; there, bosom’d in a vale,
But built conspicuous on a swelling knoll
With polish’d rock, we found a stately dome.
Within, some Goddess or some woman wove
An ample web, carolling sweet the while.
They call’d aloud; she, issuing at the voice,
Unfolded, soon, her splendid portals wide,
And bade them in. Heedless they enter’d, all,
But I remain’d, suspicious of a snare.
Ere long the whole band vanish’d, none I saw
Thenceforth, though, seated there, long time I watch’d.

   He ended; I my studded faulchion huge
Athwart my shoulder cast, and seized my bow,
Then bade him lead me thither by the way
Himself had gone; but with both hands my knees
He clasp’d, and in wing’d accents sad exclaim’d.

   My King! ah lead me not unwilling back,
But leave me here; for confident I judge
That neither thou wilt bring another thence,
Nor come thyself again. Haste—fly we swift
With these, for we, at least, may yet escape.

   So he, to whom this answer I return’d.
Eurylochus! abiding here, eat thou
And drink thy fill beside the sable bark;
I go; necessity forbids my stay.

   So

  By PanEris using Melati.

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