William Cowper- Collected Poetical Works

by William Cowper

  Godlike Telemachus, all wish he may.

  Ay — there I feel again — nor cease to mourn

  His son Telemachus; who, when the Gods

  Had giv’n him growth like a young plant, and I

  Well hoped that nought inferior he should prove

  In person or in mind to his own sire,

  Hath lost, through influence human or divine,

  I know not how, his sober intellect, 220

  And after tidings of his sire is gone

  To far-famed Pylus; his return, meantime,

  In ambush hidden the proud suitors wait,

  That the whole house may perish of renown’d

  Arcesias, named in Ithaca no more.

  But whether he have fallen or ‘scaped, let him

  Rest also, whom Saturnian Jove protect!

  But come, my ancient guest! now let me learn

  Thy own afflictions; answer me in truth.

  Who, and whence art thou? in what city born? 230

  Where dwell thy parents; in what kind of ship

  Cam’st thou? the mariners, why brought they thee

  To Ithaca? and of what land are they?

  For, that on foot thou found’st us not, is sure.

  Him answer’d, then, Ulysses, ever-wise.

  I will with truth resolve thee; and if here

  Within thy cottage sitting, we had wine

  And food for many a day, and business none

  But to regale at ease while others toiled,

  I could exhaust the year complete, my woes 240

  Rehearsing, nor, at last, rehearse entire

  My sorrows by the will of heav’n sustained.

  I boast me sprung from ancestry renown’d

  In spacious Crete; son of a wealthy sire,

  Who other sons train’d num’rous in his house,

  Born of his wedded wife; but he begat

  Me on his purchased concubine, whom yet

  Dear as his other sons in wedlock born

  Castor Hylacides esteem’d and lov’d,

  For him I boast my father. Him in Crete, 250

  While yet he liv’d, all reverenc’d as a God,

  So rich, so prosp’rous, and so blest was he

  With sons of highest praise. But death, the doom

  Of all, him bore to Pluto’s drear abode,

  And his illustrious sons among themselves

  Portion’d his goods by lot; to me, indeed,

  They gave a dwelling, and but little more,

  Yet, for my virtuous qualities, I won

  A wealthy bride, for I was neither vain

  Nor base, forlorn as thou perceiv’st me now. 260

  But thou canst guess, I judge, viewing the straw

  What once was in the ear. Ah! I have borne

  Much tribulation; heap’d and heavy woes.

  Courage and phalanx-breaking might had I

  From Mars and Pallas; at what time I drew,

  (Planning some dread exploit) an ambush forth

  Of our most valiant Chiefs, no boding fears

  Of death seized me, but foremost far of all

  I sprang to fight, and pierced the flying foe.

  Such was I once in arms. But household toils 270

  Sustain’d for children’s sake, and carking cares

  T’ enrich a family, were not for me.

  My pleasures were the gallant bark, the din

  Of battle, the smooth spear and glitt’ring shaft,

  Objects of dread to others, but which me

  The Gods disposed to love and to enjoy.

  Thus diff’rent minds are diff’rently amused;

  For ere Achaia’s fleet had sailed to Troy,

  Nine times was I commander of an host

  Embark’d against a foreign foe, and found 280

  In all those enterprizes great success.

  From the whole booty, first, what pleased me most

  Chusing, and sharing also much by lot

  I rapidly grew rich, and had thenceforth

  Among the Cretans rev’rence and respect.

  But when loud-thund’ring Jove that voyage dire

  Ordain’d, which loos’d the knees of many a Greek,

  Then, to Idomeneus and me they gave

  The charge of all their fleet, which how to avoid

  We found not, so importunate the cry 290

  Of the whole host impell’d us to the task.

  There fought we nine long years, and in the tenth

  (Priam’s proud city pillag’d) steer’d again

  Our galleys homeward, which the Gods dispersed.

  Then was it that deep-planning Jove devised

  For me much evil. One short month, no more,

  I gave to joys domestic, in my wife

  Happy, and in my babes, and in my wealth,

  When the desire seiz’d me with sev’ral ships

  Well-rigg’d, and furnish’d all with gallant crews, 300

  To sail for Ægypt; nine I fitted forth,

  To which stout mariners assembled fast.

  Six days the chosen partners of my voyage

  Feasted, to whom I num’rous victims gave

  For sacrifice, and for their own regale.

  Embarking on the sev’nth from spacious Crete,

  Before a clear breeze prosp’rous from the North

  We glided easily along, as down

  A river’s stream; nor one of all my ships

  Damage incurr’d, but healthy and at ease 310

  We sat, while gales well-managed urged us on.

  The fifth day thence, smooth-flowing Nile we reach’d,

  And safe I moor’d in the Ægyptian stream.

  Then, charging all my mariners to keep

  Strict watch for preservation of the ships,

  I order’d spies into the hill-tops; but they

  Under the impulse of a spirit rash

  And hot for quarrel, the well-cultur’d fields

  Pillaged of the Ægyptians, captive led

  Their wives and little ones, and slew the men. 320

  Soon was the city alarm’d, and at the cry

  Down came the citizens, by dawn of day,

  With horse and foot, and with the gleam of arms

  Filling the plain. Then Jove with panic dread

  Struck all my people; none found courage more

  To stand, for mischiefs swarm’d on ev’ry side.

  There, num’rous by the glittering spear we fell

  Slaughter’d, while others they conducted thence

  Alive to servitude. But Jove himself

  My bosom with this thought inspired, (I would 330

  That, dying, I had first fulfill’d my fate

  In Ægypt, for new woes were yet to come!)

  Loosing my brazen casque, and slipping off

  My buckler, there I left them on the field,

  Then cast my spear away, and seeking, next,

  The chariot of the sov’reign, clasp’d his knees,

  And kiss’d them. He, by my submission moved,

  Deliver’d me, and to his chariot-seat

  Raising, convey’d me weeping to his home.

  With many an ashen spear his warriors sought 340

  To slay me, (for they now grew fiery wroth)

  But he, through fear of hospitable Jove,

  Chief punisher of wrong, saved me alive.

  Sev’n years I there abode, and much amass’d

  Among the Ægyptians, gifted by them all;

  But, in the eighth revolving year, arrived

  A shrewd Phœnician, in all fraud adept,

  Hungry, and who had num’rous harm’d before,

  By whom I also was cajoled, and lured

  T’ attend him to Phœnicia, where his house 350

  And his possessions lay; there I abode

  A year complete his inmate; but (the days

  And months accomplish’d of the rolling year,

  And the new seasons ent’ring on their course)


  To Lybia then, on board his bark, by wiles

  He won me with him, partner of the freight

  Profess’d, but destin’d secretly to sale,

  That he might profit largely by my price.

  Not unsuspicious, yet constrain’d to go,

  With this man I embark’d. A cloudless gale 360

  Propitious blowing from the North, our ship

  Ran right before it through the middle sea,

  In the offing over Crete; but adverse Jove

  Destruction plann’d for them and death the while.

  For, Crete now left afar, and other land

  Appearing none, but sky alone and sea,

  Right o’er the hollow bark Saturnian Jove

  A cloud cærulean hung, dark’ning the Deep.

  Then, thund’ring oft, he hurl’d into the bark

  His bolts; she smitten by the fires of Jove, 370

  Quaked all her length; with sulphur fill’d she reek’d,

  And, o’er her sides precipitated, plunged

  Like gulls the crew, forbidden by that stroke

  Of wrath divine to hope their country more.

  But Jove himself, when I had cast away

  All hope of life, conducted to my arms

  The strong tall mast, that I might yet escape.

  Around that beam I clung, driving before

  The stormy blast. Nine days complete I drove,

  And, on the tenth dark night, the rolling flood 380

  Immense convey’d me to Thesprotia’s shore.

  There me the Hero Phidon, gen’rous King

  Of the Thesprotians, freely entertained;

  For his own son discov’ring me with toil

  Exhausted and with cold, raised me, and thence

  Led me humanely to his father’s house,

  Who cherish’d me, and gave me fresh attire.

  There heard I of Ulysses, whom himself

  Had entertain’d, he said, on his return

  To his own land; he shew’d me also gold, 390

  Brass, and bright steel elab’rate, whatsoe’er

  Ulysses had amass’d, a store to feed

  A less illustrious family than his

  To the tenth generation, so immense

  His treasures in the royal palace lay.

  Himself, he said, was to Dodona gone,

  There, from the tow’ring oaks of Jove to ask

  Counsel divine, if openly to land

  (After long absence) in his opulent realm

  Of Ithaca, be best, or in disguise. 400

  To me the monarch swore, in his own hall

  Pouring libation, that the ship was launch’d,

  And the crew ready for his conduct home.

  But me he first dismiss’d, for, as it chanced,

  A ship lay there of the Thesprotians, bound

  To green Dulichium’s isle. He bade the crew

  Bear me to King Acastus with all speed;

  But them far other thoughts pleased more, and thoughts

  Of harm to me, that I might yet be plunged

  In deeper gulphs of woe than I had known. 410

  For, when the billow-cleaving bark had left

  The land remote, framing, combined, a plot

  Against my liberty, they stripp’d my vest

  And mantle, and this tatter’d raiment foul

  Gave me instead, which thy own eyes behold.

  At even-tide reaching the cultur’d coast

  Of Ithaca, they left me bound on board

  With tackle of the bark, and quitting ship

  Themselves, made hasty supper on the shore.

  But me, meantime, the Gods easily loos’d 420

  By their own pow’r, when, with wrapper vile

  Around my brows, sliding into the sea

  At the ship’s stern, I lay’d me on the flood.

  With both hands oaring thence my course, I swam

  Till past all ken of theirs; then landing where

  Thick covert of luxuriant trees I mark’d,

  Close couchant down I lay; they mutt’ring loud,

  Paced to and fro, but deeming farther search

  Unprofitable, soon embark’d again.

  Thus baffling all their search with ease, the Gods 430

  Conceal’d and led me thence to the abode

  Of a wise man, dooming me still to live.

  To whom, Eumæus, thou didst thus reply,

  Alas! my most compassionable guest!

  Thou hast much moved me by this tale minute

  Of thy sad wand’rings and thy num’rous woes.

  But, speaking of Ulysses, thou hast pass’d

  All credence; I at least can give thee none.

  Why, noble as thou art, should’st thou invent

  Palpable falsehoods? as for the return 440

  Of my regretted Lord, myself I know

  That had he not been hated by the Gods

  Unanimous, he had in battle died

  At Troy, or (that long doubtful war, at last,

  Concluded,) in his people’s arms at home.

  Then universal Greece had raised his tomb,

  And he had even for his son atchiev’d

  Immortal glory; but alas! by beaks

  Of harpies torn, unseemly sight, he lies.

  Here is my home the while; I never seek 450

  The city, unless summon’d by discrete

  Penelope to listen to the news

  Brought by some stranger, whencesoe’er arrived.

  Then, all, alike inquisitive, attend,

  Both who regret the absence of our King,

  And who rejoice gratuitous to gorge

  His property; but as for me, no joy

  Find I in list’ning after such reports,

  Since an Ætolian cozen’d me, who found

  (After long wand’ring over various lands 460

  A fugitive for blood) my lone retreat.

  Him warm I welcom’d, and with open arms

  Receiv’d, who bold affirm’d that he had seen

  My master with Idomeneus at Crete

  His ships refitting shatter’d by a storm,

  And that in summer with his godlike band

  He would return, bringing great riches home,

  Or else in autumn. And thou ancient guest

  Forlorn! since thee the Gods have hither led,

  Seek not to gratify me with untruths 470

  And to deceive me, since for no such cause

  I shall respect or love thee, but alone

  By pity influenced, and the fear of Jove.

  To whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied.

  Thou hast, in truth, a most incredulous mind,

  Whom even with an oath I have not moved,

  Or aught persuaded. Come then — let us make

  In terms express a cov’nant, and the Gods

  Who hold Olympus, witness to us both!

  If thy own Lord at this thy house arrive, 480

  Thou shalt dismiss me decently attired

  In vest and mantle, that I may repair

  Hence to Dulichium, whither I would go.

  But, if thy Lord come not, then, gath’ring all

  Thy servants, headlong hurl me from a rock,

  That other mendicants may fear to lie.

  To whom the generous swine-herd in return.

  Yes, stranger! doubtless I should high renown

  Obtain for virtue among men, both now

  And in all future times, if, having first 490

  Invited thee, and at my board regaled,

  I, next, should slay thee; then my pray’rs would mount,

  Past question, swiftly to Saturnian Jove.

  But the hour calls to supper, and, ere long,

  The partners of my toils will come prepared

  To spread the board with no unsav’ry cheer.

  Thus they conferr’d. And now the swains arrived,

  Driving their charge, which fast they soon enclosed

 
Within their customary penns, and loud

  The hubbub was of swine prison’d within. 500

  Then call’d the master to his rustic train.

  Bring ye the best, that we may set him forth

  Before my friend from foreign climes arrived,

  With whom ourselves will also feast, who find

  The bright-tusk’d multitude a painful charge,

  While others, at no cost of theirs, consume

  Day after day, the profit of our toils.

  So saying, his wood for fuel he prepared,

  And dragging thither a well-fatted brawn

  Of the fifth year his servants held him fast 510

  At the hearth-side. Nor failed the master swain

  T’ adore the Gods, (for wise and good was he)

  But consecration of the victim, first,

  Himself performing, cast into the fire

  The forehead bristles of the tusky boar,

  Then pray’d to all above, that, safe, at length,

  Ulysses might regain his native home.

  Then lifting an huge shive that lay beside

  The fire, he smote the boar, and dead he fell,

  Next, piercing him, and scorching close his hair, 520

  They carv’d him quickly, and Eumæus spread

  Thin slices crude taken from ev’ry limb

  O’er all his fat, then other slices cast,

  Sprinkling them first with meal, into the fire.

  The rest they slash’d and scored, and roasted well,

  And placed it, heap’d together, on the board.

  Then rose the good Eumæus to his task

  Of distribution, for he understood

  The hospitable entertainer’s part.

  Sev’n-fold partition of the banquet made, 530

  He gave, with previous pray’r, to Maia’s son

  And to the nymphs one portion of the whole,

  Then served his present guests, honouring first

  Ulysses with the boar’s perpetual chine;

  By that distinction just his master’s heart

  He gratified, and thus the Hero spake.

  Eumæus! be thou as belov’d of Jove

  As thou art dear to me, whom, though attired

  So coarsely, thou hast served with such respect!

  To whom, Eumæus, thou didst thus reply. 540

  Eat, noble stranger! and refreshment take

  Such as thou may’st; God gives, and God denies

  At his own will, for He is Lord of all.

  He said, and to the everlasting Gods

  The firstlings sacrificed of all, then made

  Libation, and the cup placed in the hands

  Of city-spoiler Laertiades

  Sitting beside his own allotted share.

  Meantime, Mesaulius bread dispensed to all,

  Whom, in the absence of his Lord, himself 550

  Eumæus had from Taphian traders bought

  With his own proper goods, at no expence