y servant! Where is she, the Queen of the Air, Athene, and why
comest _thou_ here as a suppliant at the knees of the daughter of
Dione?"

He answered nothing, but he bowed his head in deeper sorrow.

The voice spake again:

"Behold, thy house is desolate; thy hearth is cold. The wild hare breeds
on thy hearthstone, and the night-bird roosts beneath thy roof-tree.
Thou hast neither child nor wife nor native land, and _she_ hath
forsaken thee--thy Lady Athene. Many a time didst thou sacrifice to her
the thighs of kine and sheep, but didst thou ever give so much as a
pair of dove to _me_? Hath she left thee, as the Dawn forsook Tithonus,
because there are now threads of silver in the darkness of thy hair? Is
the wise goddess fickle as a nymph of the woodland or the wells? Doth
she love a man only for the bloom of his youth? Nay, I know not; but
this I know, that on thee, Odysseus, old age will soon be hastening--old
age that is pitiless, and ruinous, and weary, and weak--age that cometh
on all men, and that is hateful to the Gods. Therefore, Odysseus, ere
yet it be too late, I would bow even thee to my will, and hold thee for
my thrall. For I am she who conquers all things living: Gods and beasts
and men. And hast thou thought that thou only shalt escape Aphrodite?
Thou that hast never loved as I would have men love; thou that hast
never obeyed me for an hour, nor ever known the joy and the sorrow that
are mine to give? For thou didst but ensure the caresses of Circe, the
Daughter of the Sun, and thou wert aweary in the arms of Calypso, and
the Sea King's daughter came never to her longing. As for her who is
dead, thy dear wife Penelope, thou didst love her with a loyal heart,
but never with a heart of fire. Nay, she was but thy companion, thy
housewife, and the mother of thy child. She was mingled with all the
memories of the land thou lovest, and so thou gavest her a little love.
But she is dead; and thy child too is no more; and thy very country is
as the ashes of a forsaken hearth where once was a camp of men. What
have all thy wars and wanderings won for thee, all thy labours, and all
the adventures thou hast achieved? For what didst thou seek among
the living and the dead? Thou soughtest that which all men seek--thou
soughtest _The World's Desire_. They find it not, nor hast thou found
it, Odysseus; and thy friends are dead; thy land is dead; nothing lives
but Hope. But the life that lies before thee is new, withou