(When loaded cribs their evening banquet yield)

The lowing herds return; around them throng

With leaps and bounds their late imprison’d young,

Rush to their mothers with unruly joy,

And echoing hills return the tender cry:

So round me press’d, exulting at my sight,

With cries and agonies of wild delight,

The weeping sailors; nor less fierce their joy

Than if return’d to Ithaca from Troy.

‘Ah master! ever honour’d, ever dear!

(These tender words on every side I hear)

What other joy can equal thy return?

Not that loved country for whose sight we mourn,

The soil that nursed us, and that gave us breath:

But ah! relate our lost companions’ death.’


“I answer’d cheerful: ‘Haste, your galley moor,

And bring our treasures and our arms ashore:

Those in yon hollow caverns let us lay,

Then rise, and follow where I lead the way.

Your fellows live; believe your eyes, and come

To taste the joys of Circe’s sacred dome.’


“With ready speed the joyful crew obey:

Alone Eurylochus persuades their stay.


“‘Whither (he cried), ah whither will ye run?

Seek ye to meet those evils ye should shun?

Will you the terrors of the dome explore,

In swine to grovel, or in lions roar,

Or wolf-like howl away the midnight hour

In dreadful watch around the magic bower?

Remember Cyclops, and his bloody deed;

The leader’s rashness made the soldiers bleed.’


“I heard incensed, and first resolved to speed

My flying falchion at the rebel’s head.

Dear as he was, by ties of kindred bound,

This hand had stretch’d him breathless on the ground.

But all at once my interposing train

For mercy pleaded, nor could plead in vain.

‘Leave here the man who dares his prince desert,

Leave to repentance and his own sad heart,

To guard the ship. Seek we the sacred shades

Of Circe’s palace, where Ulysses leads.’


“This with one voice declared, the rising train

Left the black vessel by the murmuring main.