And left wrath tyring on her son, for his enforcèd love. Ulysses, with the hecatomb, arriv’d at Chrysa’s shore; And when amidst the hav’n’s deep mouth, they came to use the oar, They straight strook sail, then roll’d them up, and on the hatches threw; The top-mast to the kelsine then, with halyards down they drew; Then brought the ship to port with oars; then forked anchor cast; And, ’gainst the violence of storm, for drifting made her fast. All come ashore, they all expos’d the holy hecatomb To angry Phœbus, and, with it, Chryseis welcom’d home; Whom to her sire, wise Ithacus, that did at th’ altar stand, For honour led, and, spoken thus, resign’d her to his hand: “Chryses, the mighty king of men, great Agamemnon, sends Thy lov’d seed by my hands to thine; and to thy God commends A hecatomb, which my charge is to sacrifice, and seek Our much-sigh-mix’d woe his recure, invok’d by ev’ry Greek.” Thus he resign’d her, and her sire receiv’d her highly joy’d. About the well-built altar, then, they orderly employ’d The sacred off’ring, wash’d their hands, took salt cakes; and the priest, With hands held up to heav’n, thus pray’d: “O thou that all things seest, Fautour of Chrysa, whose fair hand doth guard fully dispose Celestial Cilia, governing in all pow’r Tenedos, O hear thy priest, and as thy hand, in free grace to my pray’rs, Shot fervent plague-shafts through the Greeks, now hearten their affairs With health renew’d, and quite remove th’ infection from their blood.” He pray’d; and to his pray’rs again the God propitious stood. All, after pray’r, cast on salt cakes, drew back, kill’d, flay’d the beeves, Cut out and dubb’d with fat their thighs, fair dress’d with doubled leaves, And on them all the sweetbreads’ prick’d, The priest, with small sere wood, Did sacrifice, pour’d on red wine; by whom the young men stood, And turn’d, in five ranks, spits; on which (the legs enough) they eat The inwards; then in giggots cut the other fit for meat, And put to fire; which roasted well they drew. The labour done, They serv’d the feast in, that fed all to satisfaction. Desire of meat and wine thus quench’d, the youths crown’d cups of wine Drunk off, and fill’d again to all. That day was held divine, And spent in pæans to the Sun, who heard with pleaséd ear; When whose bright chariot stoop’d to sea, and twilight hid the clear, All soundly on their cables slept, ev’n till the night was worn. And when the lady of the light, the rosy-finger’d Morn, Rose from the hills, all fresh arose, and to the camp retir’d. Apollo with a fore-right wind their swelling bark inspir’d. The top-mast hoisted, milk-white sails on his round breast they put, The mizens strooted with the gale, the ship her course did cut So swiftly that the parted waves against her ribs did roar; Which, coming to the camp, they drew aloft the sandy shore, Where, laid on stocks, each soldier kept his quarter as before. But Peleus’ son, swift-foot Achilles, at his swift ships sate,