All mazed was I with sight and voice of Gods; because indeed This was not sleep, but face to face, as one a real thing sees. I seemed to see their coifèd hair and very visages, And over all my body too cold sweat of trembling flowed. I tore my body from the bed, and, crying out aloud, I stretched my upturned hands to heaven and unstained gifts I spilled Upon the hearth, and joyfully that worship I fulfilled. Anchises next I do to wit and all the thing unlock; And he, he saw the twi-branched stem, twin fathers of our stock, 180 And how by fault of yesterday through steads of old he strayed. 'O son, well learned in all the lore of Ilium's fate,' he said, 'Cassandra only of such hap would sing; I mind me well Of like fate meted to our folk full oft would she foretell; And oft would call to Italy and that Hesperian home. But who believed that Teucrian folk on any day might come Unto Hesperia's shores? or who might trow Cassandra then? Yield we to Phoebus, follow we as better counselled men The better part.' We, full of joy, obey him with one mind; From this seat too we fare away and leave a few behind; 190 With sail abroad in hollow tree we skim the ocean o'er. But when our keels the deep sea made, nor had we any more The land in sight, but sea around, and sky around was spread, A coal-blue cloud drew up to us that, hanging overhead, Bore night and storm, and mirky gloom o'er all the waters cast: Therewith the winds heap up the waves, the seas are rising fast And huge; and through the mighty whirl scattered we toss about; The storm-clouds wrap around the day, and wet mirk blotteth out The heavens, and mid the riven clouds the ceaseless lightnings live. So are we blown from out our course, through might of seas we drive, 200 Nor e'en might Palinurus self the day from night-tide sift, Nor have a deeming of the road atwixt the watery drift. Still on for three uncertain suns, that blind mists overlay, And e'en so many starless nights, across the sea we stray; But on the fourth day at the last afar upon us broke The mountains of another land, mid curling wreaths of smoke. Then fall the sails, we rise on oars, no sloth hath any place, The eager seamen toss the spray and sweep the blue sea's face; And me first saved from whirl of waves the Strophades on strand Now welcome; named by Greekish name Isles of the Sea, they stand 210 Amid the great Ionian folk: Celæno holds the shores, And others of the Harpies grim, since shut were Phineus' doors Against them, and they had to leave the tables they had won. No monster woefuller than they, and crueller is none Of all God's plagues and curses dread from Stygian waters sent. A wingèd thing with maiden face, whose bellies' excrement Is utter foul; and hookèd hands, and face for ever pale