Page:The Iliad and Odyssey of Homer (IA iliadodysseyofho02home).pdf/270

262 Musical as a poet's voice, the woes Rehears'd of all thy Greecians, and thy own. But say, and tell me true. Beheld'st thou there None of thy followers to the walls of Troy Slain in that warfare? Lo! the night is long— A night of utmost length; nor yet the hour Invites to sleep. Tell me thy wond'rous deeds, For I could watch till sacred dawn, could'st thou So long endure to tell me of thy toils. Then thus Ulysses, ever-wise, replied. Alcinoüs! high exalted over all Phæacia's sons! the time suffices yet For converse both and sleep, and if thou wish To hear still more, I shall not spare to unfold More pitiable woes than these, sustain'd By my companions, in the end destroy'd; Who, saved from perils of disast'rous war At Ilium, perish'd yet in their return, Victims of a pernicious woman's crime. Now, when chaste Proserpine had wide dispers'd Those female shades, the spirit sore distress'd Of Agamemnon, Atreus' son, appear'd; Encircled by a throng, he came; by all Who with himself beneath Ægisthus' roof Their fate fulfill'd, perishing by the sword. He drank the blood, and knew me; shrill he wail'd And querulous; tears trickling bathed his cheeks,