BOOK XII.

THUS o'er the rolling surge the vessel flies,
Till from the waves th' Eæan hills arise.
Here the gay morn resides in radiant bow'rs,
Here keeps her revels with the dancing Hours;
Here Phoebus' rising in th' ethereal way,
Through heav'n's bright portals pours the beamy
day.

At once we fix our halsers on the land,

At once descend, and press the desert sand; There worn and wasted, lose our cares in sleep, To the hoarse murmurs of the rolling deep.

Soon as the morn restor❜d the day, we pay'd

Sepulchral honous to Elpenor's shade.
Now by the ax the rushing forest bends,
And the huge pile along the shore ascends.
Around we stand a melancholy train,

And a loud groan re-echoes from the main.
Fierce o'er the pyre, by fanning breezes spread,
The hungry flame devours the silent dead.

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A rising tomb, the silent dead to grace,
Fast by the roarings of the main we place;
The rising tomb a lofty column bore,

And high above it rose the tap'ring oar.

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Meantime the goddess our return survey'd From the pale ghosts, and hell's tremendous shade. Swift she descends: a train of nymphs divine 25 Bear the rich viands and the gen'rous wine. In act to speak the pow'r of magic stands, And graceful thus accosts the list'ning bands:

O sons of woe! decreed by adverse fates Alive to pass through hell's eternal gates!

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All, soon or late, are doom'd that path to tread; More wretched you, twice number'd with the dead! This day adjourn your cares; exalt your souls, Indulge the taste, and drain the sparkling bowls; And when the morn unveils her saffron ray, 35 Spread your broad sails, and plough the liquid way: Lo I this night, your faithful guide, explain Your woes by land, your dangers on the main.

The goddess spoke; in feasts we waste the day, Till Phoebus downward plung'd his burning ray; Then sable night ascends, and balmy rest

Seals ev'ry eye, and calms the troubled breast.

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Then curious, she commands me to relate
The dreadful scenes of Pluto's dreary state;
She sat in silence while the tale I tell,
The wond'rous visions, and the laws of hell.
Then thus: The lot of man the gods dispose;
These ills are past; now hear thy future woes.
O prince, attend; some fav'ring pow'r be kind,
And print th' important story on thy mind!
Next, where the Sirens dwell, you plough the

seas;

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Their song
is death, and makes destruction please.
Unbless'd the man, whom music wins to stay
Nigh the curs'd shore, and listen to the lay;
No more that wretch shall view the joys of life,
His blooming offspring, or his beauteous wife!
In verdant meads they sport, and wide around
Lie human bones, that whiten all the ground;
The ground polluted floats with human gore,
And human carnage taints the dreadful shore. 60
Fly swift the dang'rous coast; let ev'ry ear
Be stopp'd against the song: tis death to hear!
Firm to the mast with chains thyself be bound,
Nor trust thy virtue to th' enchanting sound.
If mad with transport, freedom thou demand, 65
Be ev'ry fetter strain'd, and added band to band.

These seas o'erpass'd, be wise! but I refrain To mark distinct thy voyage o'er the main : New horrors rise! let prudence be thy guide, 69 And guard thy various passage through the tide.

High o'er the main two rocks exalt their brow, The boiling billows thund'ring roll below; Through the vast waves the dreadful wonders move, Hence nam'd Erratic by the gods above.

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No bird of air, no dove of swiftest wing,
That bears ambrosia to th' ethereal king,
Shuns the dire rocks: in vain she cuts the skies,
The dire rocks meet, and crush her as she flies.
Not the fleet bark, when prosp'rous breezes play,
Ploughs o'er that roaring surge its desp'rate way;
O'erwhelm'd it sinks: while round a smoke ex-

pires,

And the waves flashing seem to burn with fires. Scarce the fam'd Argo pass'd these raging floods, The sacred Argo, fill'd with demigods!

E'en she had sunk, but Jove's imperial bride 85 Wing'd her fleet sail, and push'd her o'er the tide.

High in the air the rock its summit shrouds In brooding tempests, and in rolling clouds; Loud storms around and mists eternal rise, Beat its bleak brow, and intercept the skies. 90

When all the broad expansion bright with day
Glows with th' autumnal or the summer ray,

The summer and the autumn glow in vain,
The sky for ever low'rs, for ever clouds remain.
Impervious to the step of man it stands,

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Though borne by twenty feet, though arm'd with twenty hands;

Smooth as the polish of the mirror, rise
The slipp'ry sides, and shoot into the skies.
Full in the centre of this rock display'd,
A yawning cavern casts a dreadful shade:
Nor the fleet arrow from the twanging bow,

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Sent with full force, could reach the depth below. Wide to the west the horrid gulf extends,

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And the dire passage down to hell descends.
O fly the dreadful sight! expand thy sails,
Ply the strong oar, and catch the nimble gales:
Here Scylla bellows from her dire abodes,
Tremendous pest! abhorr'd by man and gods!
Hideous her voice, and with less terrors roar
The whelps of lions in the midnight hour.
Twelve feet, deform'd and foul, the fiend dis-

preads;

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Six horrid necks she rears, and six terrific heads;