Soon as the morn, new-robed in purple light, Pierced with her golden shafts the rear of night, Ulysses, and his brave maternal race, The young Autolyci, essay the chase. Parnassus, thick perplex’d with horrid shades, With deep-mouth’d hounds the hunter-troop invades; What time the sun, from ocean’s peaceful stream, Darts o’er the lawn his horizontal beam. The pack impatient snuff the tainted gale; The thorny wilds the woodmen fierce assail: And, foremost of the train, his cornel spear Ulysses waved, to rouse the savage war. Deep in the rough recesses of the wood, A lofty copse, the growth of ages, stood; Nor winter’s boreal blast, nor thunderous shower, Nor solar ray, could pierce the shady bower. With wither’d foliage strew’d, a heapy store! The warm pavilion of a dreadful boar. Roused by the hounds’ and hunters’ mingling cries, The savage from his leafy shelter flies; With fiery glare his sanguine eye-balls shine, And bristles high impale his horrid chine. Young Ithacus advanced, defies the foe, Poising his lifted lance in act to throw; The savage renders vain the wound decreed, And springs impetuous with opponent speed! His tusks oblique he aim’d, the knee to gore; Aslope they glanced, the sinewy fibres tore, And bared the bone; Ulysses undismay’d, Soon with redoubled force the wound repaid; To the right shoulder-joint the spear applied, His further flank with streaming purple dyed: On earth he rushed with agonizing pain; With joy and vast surprise, the applauding train View’d his enormous bulk extended on the plain. With bandage firm Ulysses’ knee they bound; Then, chanting mystic lays, the closing wound Of sacred melody confess’d the force; The tides of life regain’d their azure course. Then back they led the youth with loud acclaim; Autolycus, enamoured with his fame, Confirm’d the cure; and from the Delphic dome With added gifts return’d him glorious home. He safe at Ithaca with joy received, Relates the chase, and early praise achieved.