If I indeed am thine, and if thou boast
Thyself my father, grant that never more
Ulysses, leveller of hostile tow'rs,
Laertes' son, of Ithaca the fair,
Behold his native home!
Thyself my father, grant that never more
Ulysses, leveller of hostile tow'rs,
Laertes' son, of Ithaca the fair,
Behold his native home!
Odyssey - Cowper
should any mortal man inquire
To whom thy shameful loss of sight thou ow'st,
Say, to Ulysses, city-waster Chief,
Laertes' son, native of Ithaca.
I ceas'd, and with a groan thus he replied.
Ah me! an antient oracle I feel
Accomplish'd. Here abode a prophet erst, 600
A man of noblest form, and in his art
Unrivall'd, Telemus Eurymedes.
He, prophesying to the Cyclops-race,
Grew old among us, and presaged my loss
Of sight, in future, by Ulysses' hand.
I therefore watch'd for the arrival here,
Always, of some great Chief, for stature, bulk
And beauty prais'd, and cloath'd with wond'rous might.
But now--a dwarf, a thing impalpable,
A shadow, overcame me first by wine, 610
Then quench'd my sight. Come hither, O my guest!
Return, Ulysses! hospitable cheer
Awaits thee, and my pray'rs I will prefer
To glorious Neptune for thy prosp'rous course;
For I am Neptune's offspring, and the God
Is proud to be my Sire; he, if he please,
And he alone can heal me; none beside
Of Pow'rs immortal, or of men below.
He spake, to whom I answer thus return'd.
I would that of thy life and soul amerced, 620
I could as sure dismiss thee down to Hell,
As none shall heal thine eye--not even He.
So I; then pray'd the Cyclops to his Sire
With hands uprais'd towards the starry heav'n.
Hear, Earth-encircler Neptune, azure-hair'd!
If I indeed am thine, and if thou boast
Thyself my father, grant that never more
Ulysses, leveller of hostile tow'rs,
Laertes' son, of Ithaca the fair,
Behold his native home! but if his fate 630
Decree him yet to see his friends, his house,
His native country, let him deep distress'd
Return and late, all his companions lost,
Indebted for a ship to foreign aid,
And let affliction meet him at his door.
He spake, and Ocean's sov'reign heard his pray'r.
Then lifting from the shore a stone of size
Far more enormous, o'er his head he whirl'd
The rock, and his immeasurable force
Exerting all, dismiss'd it. Close behind 640
The ship, nor distant from the rudder's head,
Down came the mass. The ocean at the plunge
Of such a weight, high on its refluent flood
Tumultuous, heaved the bark well nigh to land.
But when we reach'd the isle where we had left
Our num'rous barks, and where my people sat
Watching with ceaseless sorrow our return,
We thrust our vessel to the sandy shore,
Then disembark'd, and of the Cyclops' sheep
Gave equal share to all. To me alone 650
My fellow-voyagers the ram consign'd
In distribution, my peculiar meed.
Him, therefore, to cloud-girt Saturnian Jove
I offer'd on the shore, burning his thighs
In sacrifice; but Jove my hallow'd rites
Reck'd not, destruction purposing to all
My barks, and all my followers o'er the Deep.
Thus, feasting largely, on the shore we sat
Till even-tide, and quaffing gen'rous wine;
But when day fail'd, and night o'ershadow'd all, 660
Then, on the shore we slept; and when again
Aurora rosy daughter of the Dawn,
Look'd forth, my people, anxious, I enjoin'd
To climb their barks, and cast the hawsers loose.
They all obedient, took their seats on board
Well-ranged, and thresh'd with oars the foamy flood.
Thus, 'scaping narrowly, we roam'd the Deep
With aching hearts and with diminish'd crews.
FOOTNOTES:
[32] So the Scholium interprets in this place, the word ? ? ? ?
To whom thy shameful loss of sight thou ow'st,
Say, to Ulysses, city-waster Chief,
Laertes' son, native of Ithaca.
I ceas'd, and with a groan thus he replied.
Ah me! an antient oracle I feel
Accomplish'd. Here abode a prophet erst, 600
A man of noblest form, and in his art
Unrivall'd, Telemus Eurymedes.
He, prophesying to the Cyclops-race,
Grew old among us, and presaged my loss
Of sight, in future, by Ulysses' hand.
I therefore watch'd for the arrival here,
Always, of some great Chief, for stature, bulk
And beauty prais'd, and cloath'd with wond'rous might.
But now--a dwarf, a thing impalpable,
A shadow, overcame me first by wine, 610
Then quench'd my sight. Come hither, O my guest!
Return, Ulysses! hospitable cheer
Awaits thee, and my pray'rs I will prefer
To glorious Neptune for thy prosp'rous course;
For I am Neptune's offspring, and the God
Is proud to be my Sire; he, if he please,
And he alone can heal me; none beside
Of Pow'rs immortal, or of men below.
He spake, to whom I answer thus return'd.
I would that of thy life and soul amerced, 620
I could as sure dismiss thee down to Hell,
As none shall heal thine eye--not even He.
So I; then pray'd the Cyclops to his Sire
With hands uprais'd towards the starry heav'n.
Hear, Earth-encircler Neptune, azure-hair'd!
If I indeed am thine, and if thou boast
Thyself my father, grant that never more
Ulysses, leveller of hostile tow'rs,
Laertes' son, of Ithaca the fair,
Behold his native home! but if his fate 630
Decree him yet to see his friends, his house,
His native country, let him deep distress'd
Return and late, all his companions lost,
Indebted for a ship to foreign aid,
And let affliction meet him at his door.
He spake, and Ocean's sov'reign heard his pray'r.
Then lifting from the shore a stone of size
Far more enormous, o'er his head he whirl'd
The rock, and his immeasurable force
Exerting all, dismiss'd it. Close behind 640
The ship, nor distant from the rudder's head,
Down came the mass. The ocean at the plunge
Of such a weight, high on its refluent flood
Tumultuous, heaved the bark well nigh to land.
But when we reach'd the isle where we had left
Our num'rous barks, and where my people sat
Watching with ceaseless sorrow our return,
We thrust our vessel to the sandy shore,
Then disembark'd, and of the Cyclops' sheep
Gave equal share to all. To me alone 650
My fellow-voyagers the ram consign'd
In distribution, my peculiar meed.
Him, therefore, to cloud-girt Saturnian Jove
I offer'd on the shore, burning his thighs
In sacrifice; but Jove my hallow'd rites
Reck'd not, destruction purposing to all
My barks, and all my followers o'er the Deep.
Thus, feasting largely, on the shore we sat
Till even-tide, and quaffing gen'rous wine;
But when day fail'd, and night o'ershadow'd all, 660
Then, on the shore we slept; and when again
Aurora rosy daughter of the Dawn,
Look'd forth, my people, anxious, I enjoin'd
To climb their barks, and cast the hawsers loose.
They all obedient, took their seats on board
Well-ranged, and thresh'd with oars the foamy flood.
Thus, 'scaping narrowly, we roam'd the Deep
With aching hearts and with diminish'd crews.
FOOTNOTES:
[32] So the Scholium interprets in this place, the word ? ? ? ?