“Meantime from flaming Troy we cut the way With Menelaus, through the curling sea. But when to Sunium’s sacred point we came, Crown’d with the temple of the Athenian dame; Atride’s pilot, Phrontes, there expired (Phrontes, of all the songs of men admired To steer the bounding bark with steady toil, When the storm thickens, and the billows boil); While yet he exercised the steerman’s art, Apollo touch’d him with his gentle dart; Even with the rudder in his hand, he fell. To pay whole honours to the shades of hell, We check’d our haste, by pious office bound, And laid our old companion in the ground. And now the rites discharged, our course we keep Far on the gloomy bosom of the deep: Soon as Malae’s misty tops arise, Sudden the Thunderer blackens all the skies, And the winds whistle, and the surges roll Mountains on mountains, and obscure the pole. The tempest scatters, and divides our fleet; Part, the storm urges on the coast of Crete, Where winding round the rich Cydonian plain, The streams of Jardan issue to the main. There stands a rock, high, eminent and steep, Whose shaggy brow o’erhangs the shady deep, And views Gortyna on the western side; On this rough Auster drove the impetuous tide: With broken force the billows roll’d away, And heaved the fleet into the neighb’ring bay. Thus saved from death, they gain’d the Phæstan shores, With shatter’d vessels and disabled oars; But five tall barks the winds and water toss’d, Far from their fellows, on the Ægyptian coast. There wander’d Menelaus through foreign shores Amassing gold, and gathering naval stores; While cursed Ægysthus the detested deed By fraud fulfilled, and his great brother bled. Seven years, the traitor rich Mycenae sway’d, And his stern rule the groaning land obey’d; The eighth, from Athens to his realm restored, Orestes brandish’d the avenging sword, Slew the dire pair, and gave to funeral flame The vile assassin and adulterous dame. That day, ere yet the bloody triumphs cease, Return’d Atrides to the coast of Greece, And safe to Argos port his navy brought, With gifts of price and ponderous treasure fraught. Hence warn’d, my son, beware! nor idly stand Too long a stranger to thy native land; Lest heedless absence wear thy wealth away, While lawless feasters in thy palace away; Perhaps may seize thy realm, and share the spoil; And though return, with disappointed toil, From thy vain journey, to a rifled isle. However, my friend, indulge one labour more, And seek Atrides on the Spartan shore. He, wandering long a wider circle made, And many-languaged nations has survey’d: And measured tracks unknown to other ships, Amid the monstrous wonders of the deeps, (A length of ocean and unbounded sky. Which scarce the sea-fowl in a year o’erfly); Go then; to Sparta take the watery way, Thy ship and sailors but for orders stay; Or, if my land then choose thy course to bend, My steeds, my chariots, and my songs, attend; Thee to Atrides they shall safe convey,