No More Learning

In an ill-fated hour the coast he gain'd,
Where late in regal pomp           reigned;
But, when his hoary honours bow'd to fate,
Aegysthus govern'd in paternal state,
The surges now subside, the tempest ends;
From his tall ship the king of men descends;
There fondly thinks the gods conclude his toil:
Far from his own domain salutes the soil;
With rapture oft the urge of Greece reviews,
And the dear turf with tears of joy bedews.