A robe of military purple flow’d

O’er all his frame: illustrious on his breast,

The double-clasping gold the king confess’d.

In the rich woof a hound, mosaic drawn,

Bore on full stretch, and seized a dappled fawn;

Deep in the neck his fangs indent their hold;

They pant and struggle in the moving gold.

Fine as a filmy web beneath it shone

A vest, that dazzled like a cloudless sun:

The female train who round him throng’d to gaze,

In silent wonder sigh’d unwilling praise.

A sabre, when the warrior press’d to part,

I gave, enamell’d with Vulcanian art:

A mantle purple-tinged, and radiant vest,

Dimension’d equal to his size, express’d

Affection grateful to my honour’d guest.

A favourite herald in his train I knew,

His visage solemn, sad of sable hue:

Short woolly curls o’erfleeced his bending head,

O’er which a promontory shoulder spread;

Eurybates; in whose large soul alone

Ulysses view’d an image of his own.”


His speech the tempest of her grief restored;

In all he told she recognized her lord:

But when the storm was spent in plenteous showers,

A pause inspiriting her languish’d powers,

“O thou, (she cried,) whom first inclement Fate

Made welcome to my hospitable gate;

With all thy wants the name of poor shall end:

Henceforth live honour’d, my domestic friend!

The vest much envied on your native coast,

And regal robe with figured gold emboss’d,

In happier hours my artful hand employ’d,

When my loved lord this blissful bower enjoy’d:

The fall of Troy erroneous and forlorn

Doom’d to survive, and never to return!”


Then he, with pity touch’d: “O royal dame!

Your ever-anxious mind, and beauteous frame,

From the devouring rage of grief reclaim.

I not the fondness of your soul reprove

For such a lord! who crown’d your virgin love

With the dear blessing of a fair increase;

Himself adorn’d with more than mortal grace:

Yet while I speak the mighty woe suspend;