LITMIR.BIZ

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the promised boon (the goddess cries,

      Celestial azure brightening in her eyes),

      And let me now regain the Reithrian port;

      From Temese return’d, your royal court

      I shall revisit, and that pledge receive;

      And gifts, memorial of our friendship, leave.”

      Abrupt, with eagle-speed she cut the sky;

      Instant invisible to mortal eye.

      Then first he recognized the ethereal guest;

      Wonder and joy alternate fire his breast;

      Heroic thoughts, infused, his heart dilate;

      Revolving much his father’s doubtful fate.

      At length, composed, he join’d the suitor-throng;

      Hush’d in attention to the warbled song.

      His tender theme the charming lyrist chose.

      Minerva’s anger, and the dreadful woes

      Which voyaging from Troy the victors bore,

      While storms vindictive intercept the store.

      The shrilling airs the vaulted roof rebounds,

      Reflecting to the queen the silver sounds.

      With grief renew’d the weeping fair descends;

      Their sovereign’s step a virgin train attends:

      A veil, of richest texture wrought, she wears,

      And silent to the joyous hall repairs.

      There from the portal, with her mild command,

      Thus gently checks the minstrel’s tuneful hand:

      “Phemius! let acts of gods, and heroes old,

      What ancient bards in hall and bower have told,

      Attemper’d to the lyre, your voice employ;

      Such the pleased ear will drink with silent joy.

      But, oh! forbear that dear disastrous name,

      To sorrow sacred, and secure of fame;

      My bleeding bosom sickens at the sound,

      And every piercing note inflicts a wound.”

      “Why, dearest object of my duteous love,

      (Replied the prince,) will you the bard reprove?

      Oft, Jove’s ethereal rays (resistless fire)

      The chanters soul and raptured song inspire

      Instinct divine? nor blame severe his choice,

      Warbling the Grecian woes with heart and voice;

      For novel lays attract our ravish’d ears;

      But old, the mind with inattention hears:

      Patient permit the sadly pleasing strain;

      Familiar now with grief, your tears refrain,

      And in the public woe forget your own;

      You weep not for a perish’d lord alone.

      What Greeks new wandering in the Stygian gloom,

      Wish your Ulysses shared an equal doom!

      Your widow’d hours, apart, with female toil

      And various labours of the loom beguile;

      There rule, from palace-cares remote and free;

      That care to man belongs, and most to me.”

      Mature beyond his years, the queen admires

      His sage reply, and with her train retires.

      Then swelling sorrows burst their former bounds,

      With echoing grief afresh the dome resounds;

      Till Pallas, piteous of her plaintive cries,

      In slumber closed her silver-streaming eyes.

      Meantime, rekindled at the royal charms,

      Tumultuous love each beating bosom warms;

      Intemperate rage a wordy war began;

      But bold Telemachus assumed the man.

      “Instant (he cried) your female discord end,

      Ye deedless boasters! and the song attend;

      Obey that sweet compulsion, nor profane

      With dissonance the smooth melodious strain.

      Pacific now prolong the jovial feast;

      But when the dawn reveals the rosy east,

      I, to the peers assembled, shall propose

      The firm resolve, I here in few disclose;

      No longer live the cankers of my court;

      All to your several states with speed resort;

      Waste in wild riot what your land allows,

      There ply the early feast, and late carouse.

      But if, to honour lost, ’tis still decreed

      For you my bowl shall flow, my flock shall bleed;

      Judge and revenge my right, impartial Jove!

      By him and all the immortal thrones above

      (A sacred oath), each proud oppressor slain,

      Shall with inglorious gore this marble stain.”

      Awed by the prince, thus haughty, bold, and young,

      Rage gnaw’d the lip, and wonder chain’d the tongue.

      Silence at length the gay Antinous broke,

      Constrain’d a smile, and thus ambiguous spoke:

      “What god to your untutor’d youth affords

      This headlong torrent of amazing words?

      May Jove delay thy reign, and cumber late

      So bright a genius with the toils of state!”

      “Those toils (Telemachus serene replies)

      Have charms, with all their weight, t’allure the wise.

      Fast by the throne obsequious fame resides,

      And wealth incessant rolls her golden tides.

      Nor let Antinous rage, if strong desire

      Of wealth and fame a youthful bosom fire:

      Elect by Jove, his delegate of sway,

      With joyous pride the summons I’d obey.

      Whene’er Ulysses roams the realm of night,

      Should factious power dispute my lineal right,

      Some other Greeks a fairer claim may plead;

      To your pretence their title would precede.

      At least, the sceptre lost, I still should reign

      Sole o’er my vassals, and domestic train.”

      To this Eurymachus: “To Heaven alone

      Refer the choice to fill the vacant throne.

      Your patrimonial stores in peace possess;

      Undoubted, all your filial claim confess:

      Your private right should impious power invade,

      The peers of Ithaca would arm in aid.

      But say, that stranger guest who late withdrew,

      What

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