William Cowper- Collected Poetical Works

by William Cowper

  The fleece of many a sheep slain by the Greeks,

  And, cover’d by the household’s governess

  With a wide cloak, composed himself to rest.

  Yet slept he not, but meditating lay

  Woe to his enemies. Meantime, the train

  Of women, wonted to the suitors’ arms,

  Issuing all mirth and laughter, in his soul

  A tempest raised of doubts, whether at once 10

  To slay, or to permit them yet to give

  Their lusty paramours one last embrace.

  As growls the mastiff standing on the start

  For battle, if a stranger’s foot approach

  Her cubs new-whelp’d — so growl’d Ulysses’ heart,

  While wonder fill’d him at their impious deeds.

  But, smiting on his breast, thus he reproved

  The mutinous inhabitant within.

  Heart! bear it. Worse than this thou didst endure

  When, uncontroulable by force of man, 20

  The Cyclops thy illustrious friends devour’d.

  Thy patience then fail’d not, till prudence found

  Deliv’rance for thee on the brink of fate.

  So disciplined the Hero his own heart,

  Which, tractable, endured the rigorous curb,

  And patient; yet he turn’d from side to side.

  As when some hungry swain turns oft a maw

  Unctuous and sav’ry on the burning coals,

  Quick expediting his desired repast,

  So he from side to side roll’d, pond’ring deep 30

  How likeliest with success he might assail

  Those shameless suitors; one to many opposed.

  Then, sudden from the skies descending, came

  Minerva in a female form; her stand

  Above his head she took, and thus she spake.

  Why sleep’st thou not, unhappiest of mankind?

  Thou art at home; here dwells thy wife, and here

  Thy son; a son, whom all might wish their own.

  Then her Ulysses answer’d, ever-wise.

  O Goddess! true is all that thou hast said, 40

  But, not without anxiety, I muse

  How, single as I am, I shall assail

  Those shameless suitors who frequent my courts

  Daily; and always their whole multitude.

  This weightier theme I meditate beside;

  Should I, with Jove’s concurrence and with thine

  Prevail to slay them, how shall I escape,

  Myself, at last? oh Goddess, weigh it well.

  Him answer’d then Pallas cærulean-eyed.

  Oh faithless man! a man will in his friend 50

  Confide, though mortal, and in valour less

  And wisdom than himself; but I who keep

  Thee in all difficulties, am divine.

  I tell thee plainly. Were we hemm’d around

  By fifty troops of shouting warriors bent

  To slay thee, thou should’st yet securely drive

  The flocks away and cattle of them all.

  But yield to sleep’s soft influence; for to lie

  All night thus watchful, is, itself, distress.

  Fear not. Deliv’rance waits, not far remote. 60

  So saying, she o’er Ulysses’ eyes diffused

  Soft slumbers, and when sleep that sooths the mind

  And nerves the limbs afresh had seized him once,

  To the Olympian summit swift return’d.

  But his chaste spouse awoke; she weeping sat

  On her soft couch, and, noblest of her sex,

  Satiate at length with tears, her pray’r address’d

  First to Diana of the Pow’rs above.

  Diana, awful progeny of Jove!

  I would that with a shaft this moment sped 70

  Into my bosom, thou would’st here conclude

  My mournful life! or, oh that, as it flies,

  Snatching me through the pathless air, a storm

  Would whelm me deep in Ocean’s restless tide!

  So, when the Gods their parents had destroy’d,

  Storms suddenly the beauteous daughters snatch’d

  Of Pandarus away; them left forlorn

  Venus with curds, with honey and with wine

  Fed duly; Juno gave them to surpass

  All women in the charms of face and mind, 80

  With graceful stature eminent the chaste

  Diana bless’d them, and in works of art

  Illustrious, Pallas taught them to excel.

  But when the foam-sprung Goddess to the skies

  A suitress went on their behalf, to obtain

  Blest nuptials for them from the Thund’rer Jove,

  (For Jove the happiness, himself, appoints,

  And the unhappiness of all below)

  Meantime, the Harpies ravishing away

  Those virgins, gave them to the Furies Three, 90

  That they might serve them. O that me the Gods

  Inhabiting Olympus so would hide

  From human eyes for ever, or bright-hair’d

  Diana pierce me with a shaft, that while

  Ulysses yet engages all my thoughts,

  My days concluded, I might ‘scape the pain

  Of gratifying some inferior Chief!

  This is supportable, when (all the day

  To sorrow giv’n) the mourner sleeps at night;

  For sleep, when it hath once the eyelids veil’d, 100

  All reminiscence blots of all alike,

  Both good and ill; but me the Gods afflict

  Not seldom ev’n in dreams, and at my side,

  This night again, one lay resembling him;

  Such as my own Ulysses when he join’d

  Achaia’s warriors; my exulting heart

  No airy dream believed it, but a truth.

  While thus she spake, in orient gold enthroned

  Came forth the morn; Ulysses, as she wept,

  Heard plain her lamentation; him that sound 110

  Alarm’d; he thought her present, and himself

  Known to her. Gath’ring hastily the cloak

  His cov’ring, and the fleeces, them he placed

  Together on a throne within the hall,

  But bore the bull’s-hide forth into the air.

  Then, lifting high his hands to Jove, he pray’d.

  Eternal Sire! if over moist and dry

  Ye have with good-will sped me to my home

  After much suff’ring, grant me from the lips

  Of some domestic now awake, to hear 120

  Words of propitious omen, and thyself

  Vouchsafe me still some other sign abroad.

  Such pray’r he made, and Jove omniscient heard.

  Sudden he thunder’d from the radiant heights

  Olympian; glad, Ulysses heard the sound.

  A woman, next, a labourer at the mill

  Hard by, where all the palace-mills were wrought,

  Gave him the omen of propitious sound.

  Twelve maidens, day by day, toil’d at the mills,

  Meal grinding, some, of barley, some, of wheat, 130

  Marrow of man. The rest (their portion ground)

  All slept; she only from her task as yet

  Ceas’d not, for she was feeblest of them all;

  She rested on her mill, and thus pronounced

  The happy omen by her Lord desired.

  Jove, Father, Governor of heav’n and earth!

  Loud thou hast thunder’d from the starry skies

  By no cloud veil’d; a sign propitious, giv’n

  To whom I know not; but oh grant the pray’r

  Of a poor bond-woman! appoint their feast 140

  This day, the last that in Ulysses’ house

  The suitors shall enjoy, for whom I drudge,

  With aching heart and trembling knees their meal

  Grinding continual. Feast they here no more!

  She ended, and the list’ning Ch
ief received

  With equal joy both signs; for well he hoped

  That he should punish soon those guilty men.

  And now the other maidens in the hall

  Assembling, kindled on the hearth again

  Th’ unwearied blaze; then, godlike from his couch 150

  Arose Telemachus, and, fresh-attired,

  Athwart his shoulders his bright faulchion slung,

  Bound his fair sandals to his feet, and took

  His sturdy spear pointed with glitt’ring brass;

  Advancing to the portal, there he stood,

  And Euryclea thus, his nurse, bespake.

  Nurse! have ye with respectful notice serv’d

  Our guest? or hath he found a sordid couch

  E’en where he might? for, prudent though she be,

  My mother, inattentive oft, the worse 160

  Treats kindly, and the better sends away.

  Whom Euryclea answer’d, thus, discrete.

  Blame not, my son! who merits not thy blame.

  The guest sat drinking till he would no more,

  And ate, till, question’d, he replied — Enough.

  But when the hour of sleep call’d him to rest,

  She gave commandment to her female train

  To spread his couch. Yet he, like one forlorn,

  And, through despair, indiff’rent to himself,

  Both bed and rugs refused, and in the porch 170

  On skins of sheep and on an undress’d hide

  Reposed, where we threw cov’ring over him.

  She ceas’d, and, grasping his bright-headed spear,

  Forth went the Prince attended, as he went,

  By his fleet hounds; to the assembled Greeks

  In council with majestic gait he moved,

  And Euryclea, daughter wise of Ops,

  Pisenor’s son, call’d to the serving-maids.

  Haste ye! be diligent! sweep the palace-floor

  And sprinkle it; then give the sumptuous seats 180

  Their purple coverings. Let others cleanse

  With sponges all the tables, wash and rince

  The beakers well, and goblets rich-emboss’d;

  Run others to the fountain, and bring thence

  Water with speed. The suitors will not long

  Be absent, but will early come to-day,

  For this day is a public festival.

  So she; whom all, obedient, heard; forth went

  Together, twenty to the crystal fount,

  While in their sev’ral provinces the rest 190

  Bestirr’d them brisk at home. Then enter’d all

  The suitors, and began cleaving the wood.

  Meantime, the women from the fountain came,

  Whom soon the swine-herd follow’d, driving three

  His fattest brawns; them in the spacious court

  He feeding left, and to Ulysses’ side

  Approaching, courteously bespake the Chief.

  Guest! look the Greecians on thee with respect

  At length, or still disdainful as before?

  Then, answer thus Ulysses wise return’d. 200

  Yes — and I would that vengeance from the Gods

  Might pay their insolence, who in a house

  Not theirs, dominion exercise, and plan

  Unseemly projects, shameless as they are!

  Thus they conferr’d; and now Melanthius came

  The goat-herd, driving, with the aid of two

  His fellow-swains, the fattest of his goats

  To feast the suitors. In the sounding porch

  The goats he tied, then, drawing near, in terms

  Reproachful thus assail’d Ulysses’ ear. 210

  How, stranger? persever’st thou, begging, still

  To vex the suitors? wilt thou not depart?

  Scarce shall we settle this dispute, I judge,

  Till we have tasted each the other’s fist;

  Thou art unreasonable thus to beg

  Here always — have the Greeks no feasts beside?

  He spake, to whom Ulysses answer none

  Return’d, but shook his brows, and, silent, framed

  Terrible purposes. Then, third, approach’d

  Chief o’er the herds, Philœtius; fatted goats 220

  He for the suitors brought, with which he drove

  An heifer; (ferry-men had pass’d them o’er,

  Carriers of all who on their coast arrive)

  He tied them in the sounding porch, then stood

  Beside the swine-herd, to whom thus he said.

  Who is this guest, Eumæus, here arrived

  So lately? from what nation hath he come?

  What parentage and country boasts the man?

  I pity him, whose figure seems to speak

  Royalty in him. Heav’n will surely plunge 230

  The race of common wand’rers deep in woe,

  If thus it destine even Kings to mourn.

  He ceas’d; and, with his right hand, drawing nigh,

  Welcom’d Ulysses, whom he thus bespake.

  Hail venerable guest! and be thy lot

  Prosp’rous at least hereafter, who art held

  At present in the bonds of num’rous ills.

  Thou, Jupiter, of all the Gods, art most

  Severe, and spar’st not to inflict distress

  Even on creatures from thyself derived. 240

  I had no sooner mark’d thee, than my eyes

  Swam, and the sweat gush’d from me at the thought

  Of dear Ulysses; for if yet he live

  And see the sun, such tatters, I suppose,

  He wears, a wand’rer among human-kind.

  But if already with the dead he dwell

  In Pluto’s drear abode, oh then, alas

  For kind Ulysses! who consign’d to me,

  While yet a boy, his Cephalenian herds,

  And they have now encreas’d to such a store 250

  Innumerable of broad-fronted beeves,

  As only care like mine could have produced.

  These, by command of others, I transport

  For their regale, who neither heed his son,

  Nor tremble at the anger of the Gods,

  But long have wish’d ardently to divide

  And share the substance of our absent Lord.

  Me, therefore, this thought occupies, and haunts

  My mind not seldom; while the heir survives

  It were no small offence to drive his herds 260

  Afar, and migrate to a foreign land;

  Yet here to dwell, suff’ring oppressive wrongs

  While I attend another’s beeves, appears

  Still less supportable; and I had fled,

  And I had served some other mighty Chief

  Long since, (for patience fails me to endure

  My present lot) but that I cherish still

  Some hope of my ill-fated Lord’s return,

  To rid his palace of those lawless guests.

  To whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied. 270

  Herdsman! since neither void of sense thou seem’st,

  Nor yet dishonest, but myself am sure

  That thou art owner of a mind discrete,

  Hear therefore, for I swear! bold I attest

  Jove and this hospitable board, and these

  The Lares of the noble Chief, whose hearth

  Protects me now, that, ere thy going hence,

  Ulysses surely shall have reach’d his home,

  And thou shalt see him, if thou wilt, thyself,

  Slaying the suitors who now lord it here. 280

  Him answer’d then the keeper of his beeves.

  Oh stranger! would but the Saturnian King

  Perform that word, thou should’st be taught (thyself

  Eye-witness of it) what an arm is mine.

  Eumæus also ev’ry power of heav’n

  Entreated, that Ulysses might possess

  His home again. Thus mutual they conferr’d.
/>   Meantime, in conf’rence close the suitors plann’d

  Death for Telemachus; but while they sat

  Consulting, on their left the bird of Jove 290

  An eagle soar’d, grasping a tim’rous dove.

  Then, thus, Amphinomus the rest bespake.

  Oh friends! our consultation how to slay

  Telemachus, will never smoothly run

  To its effect; but let us to the feast.

  So spake Amphinomus, whose counsel pleased.

  Then, all into the royal house repaired,

  And on the thrones and couches throwing off

  Their mantles, slew the fatted goats, the brawns,

  The sheep full-sized, and heifer of the herd. 300

  The roasted entrails first they shared, then fill’d

  The beakers, and the swine-herd placed the cups,

  Philœtius, chief intendant of the beeves,

  Served all with baskets elegant of bread,

  While all their cups Melanthius charged with wine,

  And they assail’d at once the ready feast.

  Meantime Telemachus, with forecast shrewd,

  Fast by the marble threshold, but within

  The spacious hall his father placed, to whom

  A sordid seat he gave and scanty board. 310

  A portion of the entrails, next, he set

  Before him, fill’d a golden goblet high,

  And thus, in presence of them all, began.

  There seated now, drink as the suitors drink.

  I will, myself, their biting taunts forbid,

  And violence. This edifice is mine,

  Not public property; my father first

  Possess’d it, and my right from him descends.

  Suitors! controul your tongues, nor with your hands

  Offend, lest contest fierce and war ensue. 320

  He ceas’d: they gnawing, sat, their lips, aghast

  With wonder that Telemachus in his speech

  Such boldness used. Then spake Eupithes’ son,

  Antinoüs, and the assembly thus address’d.

  Let pass, ye Greeks! the language of the Prince,

  Harsh as it is, and big with threats to us.

  Had Jove permitted, his orations here,

  Although thus eloquent, ere now had ceased.

  So spake Antinoüs, whom Ulysses’ son

  Heard unconcern’d. And now the heralds came 330

  In solemn pomp, conducting through the streets

  A sacred hecatomb, when in the grove

  Umbrageous of Apollo, King shaft-arm’d,

  The assembled Greecians met. The sav’ry roast

  Finish’d, and from the spits withdrawn, each shared

  His portion of the noble feast, and such

  As they enjoy’d themselves the attendants placed

  Before Ulysses, for the Hero’s son

  Himself, Telemachus, had so enjoined.

  But Pallas (that they might exasp’rate more 340