Should great Ulysses stern appear in arms,

While the bowl circles and the banquet warms;

Though to his breast his spouse with transport flies,

Torn from her breast, that hour, Ulysses dies.

But hence retreating to your domes repair.

To arm the vessel, Mentor! be thy care,

And Halitherses! thine: be each his friend;

Ye loved the father: go, the son attend.

But yet, I trust, the boaster means to stay

Safe in the court, nor tempt the watery way.”


Then, with a rushing sound the assembly bend

Diverse their steps: the rival rout ascend

The royal dome; while sad the prince explores

The neighbouring main, and sorrowing treads the shores.

There, as the waters o’er his hands he shed,

The royal suppliant to Minerva pray’d:


“O goddess! who descending from the skies

Vouchsafed thy presence to my wondering eyes,

By whose commands the raging deeps I trace,

And seek my sire through storms and rolling seas!

Hear from thy heavens above, O warrior maid!

Descend once more, propitious to my aid.

Without thy presence, vain is thy command:

Greece, and the rival train, thy voice withstand.”


Indulgent to his prayer, the goddess took

Sage Mentor’s form, and thus like Mentor spoke:


“O prince, in early youth divinely wise,

Born, the Ulysses of thy age to rise

If to the son the father’s worth descends,

O’er the wide wave success thy ways attends

To tread the walks of death he stood prepared;

And what he greatly thought, he nobly dared.

Were not wise sons descendant of the wise,

And did not heroes from brave heroes rise,

Vain were my hopes: few sons attain the praise

Of their great sires, and most their sires disgrace.

But since thy veins paternal virtue fires,

And all Penelope thy soul inspires,

Go, and succeed: the rivals’ aims despise;

For never, never wicked man was wise.

Blind they rejoice, though now, ev’n now they fall;

Death hastes amain: one hour o’erwhelms them all!