Page:The Iliad and Odyssey of Homer (IA iliadodysseyofho02home).pdf/168

160 For her the tempest scatter'd, and myself This ocean measur'd swimming, till the winds And mighty waters cast me on your shore. Me there emerging, the huge waves had dash'd Full on the land, where, incommodious most, The shore presented only roughest rocks, But, leaving it, I swam the Deep again, Till now, at last, a river's gentle stream Receiv'd me, by no rocks deform'd, and where No violent winds the shelter'd bank annoy'd. I flung myself on shore, exhausted, weak, Needing repose; ambrosial night came on, When from the Jove-descended stream withdrawn, I in a thicket lay'd me down on leaves Which I had heap'd together, and the Gods O'erwhelm'd my eye-lids with a flood of sleep. There under wither'd leaves, forlorn, I slept All the long night, the morning and the noon, But balmy sleep, at the decline of day, Broke from me; then, your daughter's train I heard Sporting, with whom she also sported, fair And graceful as the Gods. To her I kneel'd. She, following the dictates of a mind Ingenuous, pass'd in her behaviour all Which even ye could from an age like hers Have hoped; for youth is ever indiscrete. She gave me plenteous food, with richest wine Refresh'd my spirit, taught me where to bathe,