oam'd, till by the Gods
Relieved at length, and till with gracious words
Thyself didst in Phaeacia's opulent land
Confirm my courage, and becam'st my guide.
But I adjure thee in thy father's name--
O tell me truly, (for I cannot hope 390
That I have reach'd fair Ithaca; I tread
Some other soil, and thou affirm'st it mine
To mock me merely, and deceive) oh say--
Am I in Ithaca? in truth, at home?
Thus then Minerva the caerulean-eyed.
Such caution in thy breast always prevails
Distrustful; but I know thee eloquent,
With wisdom and with ready thought endued,
And cannot leave thee, therefore, thus distress'd
For what man, save Ulysses, new-return'd 400
After long wand'rings, would not pant to see
At once his home, his children, and his wife?
But thou preferr'st neither to know nor ask
Concerning them, till some experience first
Thou make of her whose wasted youth is spent
In barren solitude, and who in tears
Ceaseless her nights and woeful days consumes.
I ne'er was ignorant, but well foreknew
That not till after loss of all thy friends
Thou should'st return; but loth I was to oppose 410
Neptune, my father's brother, sore incensed
For his son's sake deprived of sight by thee.
But, I will give thee proof--come now--survey
These marks of Ithaca, and be convinced.
This is the port of Phorcys, sea-born sage;
That, the huge olive at the haven's head;
Fast by it, thou behold'st the pleasant cove
Umbrageous, to the nymphs devoted named
The Naiads; this the broad-arch'd cavern is
Where thou wast wont to offer to the nymphs 420
Many a whole hecatomb; and yonder stands
The mountain Neritus with forests cloath'd.
So saying, the Goddess scatter'd from before
His eyes all darkness, and he knew the land.
Then felt Ulysses, Hero toil-inured,
Transport unutterable, seeing plain
Once more his native isle. He kiss'd the glebe,
And with uplifted hands the nymphs ador'd.
Nymphs, Naiads, Jove's own daughters! I despair'd
To see you more, whom yet with happy vows 430
I now can hail again. Gifts, as of old,
We will hereafter at your shrines present,
If Jove-born Pallas, huntress of the spoils,
Grant life to me, and manhood