The silken fleece, impurpled for the loom,

Rivall’d the hyacinth in vernal bloom.

The sovereign seat then Jove born Helen press’d,

And pleasing thus her sceptred lord address’d:


“Who grace our palace now, that friendly pair,

Speak they their lineage, or their names declare?

Uncertain of the truth, yet uncontroll’d,

Hear me the bodings of my breast unfold.

With wonder wrapp’d on yonder check I trace

The feature of the Ulyssean race:

Diffused o’er each resembling line appear,

In just similitude, the grace and air

Of young Telemachus! the lovely boy,

Who bless’d Ulysses with a father’s joy,

What time the Greeks combined their social arms,

To avenge the stain of my ill-fated charms!”


“Just is thy thought, (the king assenting cries,)

Methinks Ulysses strikes my wondering eyes;

Full shines the father in the filial frame,

His port, his features, and his shape the same;

Such quick regards his sparkling eyes bestow;

Such wavy ringlets o’er his shoulders flow

And when he heard the long disastrous store

Of cares, which in my cause Ulysses bore;

Dismay’d, heart-wounded with paternal woes,

Above restraint the tide of sorrow rose;

Cautious to let the gushing grief appear,

His purple garment veil’d the falling tear.”


“See there confess’d (Pisistratus replies)

The genuine worth of Ithacus the wise!

Of that heroic sire the youth is sprung,

But modest awe hath chain’d his timorous tongue.

Thy voice, O king! with pleased attention heard,

Is like the dictates of a god revered.

With him, at Nestor’s high command, I came,

Whose age I honour with a parent’s name.

By adverse destiny constrained to sue

For counsel and redress, he sues to you

Whatever ill the friendless orphan bears,

Bereaved of parents in his infant years,

Still must the wrong’d Telemachus sustain,

If, hopeful of your aid, he hopes in vain;

Affianced in your friendly power alone,

The youth would vindicate the vacant throne.”