“Wide wanders, Laodam, thy erring tongue The sports of glory to the brave belong (Retorts Euryalus): he bears no claim Among the great, unlike the sons of Fame. A wandering merchant he frequents the main Some mean seafarer in pursuit of gain; Studious of freight, in naval trade well skill’d, But dreads the athletic labours of the field.” Incensed, Ulysses with a frown replies: “O forward to proclaim thy soul unwise! With partial hands the gods their gifts dispense; Some greatly think, some speak with manly sense; Here Heaven an elegance of form denies, But wisdom the defect of form supplies; This man with energy of thought controls, And steals with modest violence our souls; He speaks reservedly, but he speaks with force, Nor can one word be changed but for a worse; In public more than mortal he appears, And as he moves, the praising crowd reveres; While others, beauteous as the etherial kind, The nobler portion went, a knowing mind, In outward show Heaven gives thee to excel. But Heaven denies the praise of thinking well I’ll bear the brave a rude ungovern’d tongue, And, youth, my generous soul resents the wrong. Skill’d in heroic exercise, I claim A post of honour with the sons of Fame. Such was my boast while vigour crown’d my days, Now care surrounds me, and my force decays; Inured a melancholy part to bear In scenes of death, by tempest and by war Yet thus by woes impair’d, no more I waive To prove the hero—slander stings the brave.” Then gliding forward with a furious bound He wrench’d a rocky fragment from the ground By far more ponderous, and more huge by far Than what Phæacia’s sons discharged in air. Fierce from his arm the enormous load he flings; Sonorous through the shaded air it sings; Couch’d to the earth, tempestuous as it flies, The crowd gaze upward while it cleaves the skies. Beyond all marks, with many a giddy round Down-rushing, it up-turns a hill of ground. That Instant Pallas, bursting from a cloud, Fix’d a distinguish’d mark, and cried aloud: “E’en he who, sightless, wants his visual ray May by his touch alone award the day: Thy signal throw transcends the utmost bound Of every champion by a length of ground: Securely bid the strongest of the train Arise to throw; the strongest throws in vain.”