But, He who dwells above, Jove only knows
If some disastrous day be not ordain’d
For them, or ere those nuptials shall arrive.
Messenger of Apollo, on full wing,
A falcon; in his pounces clench’d he bore
A dove, which rending, down he pour’d her plumes
Between the galley and Telemachus.
Then, calling him apart, the prophet lock’d
His hand in his, and thus explain’d the sign.
On our right hand, Telemachus! this hawk
Hath wing’d propitious; soon as I perceived
I knew him ominous—In all the isle
No family of a more royal note
Than yours is found, and yours shall still prevail.
Grant heav’n, my guest! that this good word of thine
Fail not, and soon thou shalt such bounty share
And friendship at my hands, that, at first sight,
Whoe’er shall meet thee shall pronounce thee blest.
Piræus, son of Clytius! (for of all
My followers to the shore of Pylus, none
More prompt than thou hath my desires perform’d)
Now also to thy own abode conduct
This stranger, whom with hospitable care
Cherish and honour till myself arrive.
Telemachus! however long thy stay,
Punctual I will attend him, and no want
Of hospitality shall he find with me.
Embarking also, cast the hawsers loose,
And each, obedient, to his bench repair’d.
Meantime Telemachus his sandals bound,
And lifted from the deck his glitt’ring spear.
Then, as Telemachus had bidden them,
Son of divine Ulysses, casting loose
The hawsers, forth they push’d into the Deep
And sought the city, while with nimble pace
Proceeding thence, Telemachus attain’d
The cottage soon where good Eumæus slept,
The swine-herd, faithful to his num’rous charge.