Page:The Iliad and Odyssey of Homer (IA iliadodysseyofho02home).pdf/129

V. He sees Phæacia nigh, where he must leap The bound'ry of his woes; but ere that hour Arrive, I will ensure him many a groan. So saying, he grasp'd his trident, gather'd dense The clouds and troubled ocean; ev'ry storm From ev'ry point he summon'd, earth and sea Darkening, and the night fell black from heav'n. The East, the South, the heavy-blowing West, And the cold North-wind clear, assail'd at once His raft, and heaved on high the billowy flood. All hope, all courage, in that moment, lost, The Hero thus within himself complain'd. Wretch that I am, what destiny at last Attends me! much I fear the Goddess' words All true, which threaten'd me with num'rous ills On the wide sea, ere I should reach my home. Behold them all fulfill'd! with what a storm Jove hangs the heav'ns, and agitates the Deep! The winds combined beat on me. Now I sink! Thrice blest, and more than thrice, Achaia's sons At Ilium slain for the Atridæ' sake! Ah, would to heav'n that, dying, I had felt That day the stroke of fate, when me the dead Achilles guarding, with a thousand spears Troy's furious host assail'd! Funereal rites I then had shared, and praise from ev'ry Greek, Whom now the most inglorious death awaits.