Over the sea we rode, the shortest run To Italy, past the Ceraunian rocks. The sun went down; the hills were dark with shadow. The oars assigned, we drew in to the land For a little welcome rest; sleep overcame us, But it was not yet midnight when our pilot Sprang from his blanket, studying the winds, Alert and listening, noting the stars Wheeling the silent heaven, the twin Oxen, Arcturus and the rainy Kids. All calm, He saw, and roused us; camp was broken; the sail Spread to the rushing breeze, and as day reddened And the stars faded, we saw a coast, low-lying, And made out hills. ‘Italy!’, cried Achates, ‘Italy!’ all the happy sailors shouted. Anchises wreathed a royal wine-bowl, stood On the high stern, calling:--‘Gods of earth and ocean And wind and storm, help us along, propitious With favoring breath!’ And the breeze sprang up, and freshened; We saw a harbor open, and a temple Shone on Minerva’s headland. The sails came down, We headed toward the land. Like the curve of a bow The port turned in from the Eastern waves; its cliffs Foamed with the salty spray, and towering rocks Came down to the sea, on both sides, double walls, And the temple fled the shore. Here, our first omen, I saw four horses grazing, white as snow, And father Anchises cried:--‘It is war you bring us, Welcoming land, horses are armed for war, It is war these herds portend. But there is hope Of peace as well. Horses will bend to the yoke And bear the bridle tamely.’ Then we worshipped The holy power of Pallas, first to hear us, Kept our heads veiled before the solemn altar, And following Helenus’ injunction, offered Our deepest prayer to Juno. And sailed on, With some misgiving, past the homes of Greeks; Saw, next, a bay, Tarentum, and a town That rumor said was Hercules’; against it, The towers of Caulon rose, and Scylaceum, Most dangerous to ships, and a temple of Juno. Far off, Sicilian Etna rose from the waves, And we heard the loud sea roar, and the rocks resounding, And voices broken on the coast; the shoals Leaped at us, and the tide boiled sand. My father Cried in alarm:--‘This must be that Charybdis Helenus warned us of. Rise to the oars, O comrades, pull from the danger!’ They responded As they did, always, Palinurus swinging The prow to the waves on the left, and all our effort Strained to the left, with oars and sail. One moment We were in the clouds, the next in the gulf of Hell; Three times the hollow rocks and reefs roared at us, Three times we saw spray shower the very stars, And the wind went down at sunset; we were weary, Drifting, in ignorance, to the Cyclops shores.