TRANSLATIONS, &c.
THE ELEVENTH BOOK OF
HOMER'S ODYSSEY.
TRANSLATED FROM THE GREEK,
IN MILTON'S STYLE.
To th' Orphean lyre
He sung of Chaos and eternal Night,
Taught by the heav'nly Muse to venture down
The dark descent, and up to re-ascend,
Tho' hard and rare.
PARADISE LOST, B. iii.
He sung of Chaos and eternal Night,
Taught by the heav'nly Muse to venture down
The dark descent, and up to re-ascend,
Tho' hard and rare.
PARADISE LOST, B. iii.
When speeding sea-ward to the fleet we came
That anchor'd nigh the coast, we launch'd our ship
Into the sacred deep: the mast up-rear'd
Bore ev'ry sail expanded; whilst aboard
We stow'd devoted victims, and ascend 5
The vessel, inly griev'd, and silent showers
Fell from our drooping eyes. A friendly wind
Circe the fair, of human race divine,
Propitious sent; to ply the struggling oar
Small need remain'd, the fresh'ning gale suffic'd 10
Each bellying canvass. On with speed we fare
Prosperous; and when the sun careering prone
Sunk to the western isles, and dewy shade
Sabled the pole, we, tilting o'er the waves
That anchor'd nigh the coast, we launch'd our ship
Into the sacred deep: the mast up-rear'd
Bore ev'ry sail expanded; whilst aboard
We stow'd devoted victims, and ascend 5
The vessel, inly griev'd, and silent showers
Fell from our drooping eyes. A friendly wind
Circe the fair, of human race divine,
Propitious sent; to ply the struggling oar
Small need remain'd, the fresh'ning gale suffic'd 10
Each bellying canvass. On with speed we fare
Prosperous; and when the sun careering prone
Sunk to the western isles, and dewy shade
Sabled the pole, we, tilting o'er the waves
