His hyacinthine locks descend in wavy curls.

As by some artist, to whom Vulcan gives

His skill divine, a breathing statue lives;

By Pallas taught, he frames the wondrous mould,

And o’er the silver pours the fusile gold

So Pallas his heroic frame improves

With heavenly bloom, and like a god he moves.

A fragrance breathes around; majestic grace

Attends his steps: the astonished virgins gaze.

Soft he reclines along the murmuring seas,

Inhaling freshness from the fanning breeze.


The wondering nymph his glorious port survey’d,

And to her damsels, with amazement, said:


“Not without care divine the stranger treads

This land of joy; his steps some godhead leads:

Would Jove destroy him, sure he had been driven

Far from this realm, the favourite isle of heaven.

Late, a sad spectacle of woe, he trod

The desert sands, and now he looks a god.

Oh heaven! in my connubial hour decree

This man my spouse, or such a spouse as he!

But haste, the viands and the bowl provide.”

The maids the viands and the bowl supplied:

Eager he fed, for keen his hunger raged,

And with the generous vintage thirst assuaged.


Now on return her care Nausicaa bends,

The robes resumes, the glittering car ascends,

Far blooming o’er the field; and as she press’d

The splendid seat, the listening chief address’d:


“Stranger, arise! the sun rolls down the day.

Lo, to the palace I direct thy way;

Where, in high state, the nobles of the land

Attend my royal sire, a radiant band

But hear, though wisdom in thy soul presides,

Speaks from thy tongue, and every action guides;

Advance at distance, while I pass the plain

Where o’er the furrows waves the golden grain;

Alone I reascend—With airy mounds

A strength of wall the guarded city bounds;

The jutting land two ample bays divides:

Full through the narrow mouths descend the tides;

The spacious basons arching rocks enclose,

A sure defence from every storm that blows.