Ourselves by pressure urged of other cares. Touch'd with compassion seeing him, I wept, And in wing'd accents brief him thus bespake. Elpenor! how cam'st thou into the realms Of darkness? Hast thou, though on foot, so far Outstripp'd my speed, who in my bark arrived? So I, to whom with tears he thus replied. Laertes' noble son, for wiles renown'd! Fool'd by some dæmon and the intemp'rate bowl, I perish'd in the house of Circe; there 70 The deep-descending steps heedless I miss'd, And fell precipitated from the roof. With neck-bone broken from the vertebræ Outstretch'd I lay; my spirit sought the shades. But now, by those whom thou hast left at home, By thy Penelope, and by thy fire, The gentle nourisher of thy infant growth, And by thy only son Telemachus I make my suit to thee. For, sure, I know That from the house of Pluto safe return'd, 80 Thou shalt ere long thy gallant vessel moor At the Ææan isle. Ah! there arrived Remember me. Leave me not undeplored Nor uninhumed, lest, for my sake, the Gods In vengeance visit thee; but with my arms (What arms soe'er I left) burn me, and raise A kind memorial of me on the coast, Heap'd high with earth; that an unhappy man May yet enjoy an unforgotten name. Thus do at my request, and on my hill 90 Funereal, plant the oar with which I row'd, While yet I lived a mariner of thine. He spake, to whom thus answer I return'd. Poor youth! I will perform thy whole desire. Thus we, there sitting, doleful converse held, With outstretch'd faulchion, I, guarding the blood, And my companion's shadowy semblance sad Meantime discoursing me on various themes. The soul of my departed mother, next, Of Anticleia came, daughter of brave 100 Autolycus; whom, when I sought the shores Of Ilium, I had living left at home. Seeing her, with compassion touch'd, I wept, Yet even her, (although it pain'd my soul) Forbad, relentless, to approach the blood, Till with Tiresias I should first confer. Then came the spirit of the Theban seer Himself, his golden sceptre in his hand, Who knew me, and, enquiring, thus began. Why, hapless Chief! leaving the cheerful day, 110 Arriv'st thou to behold the dead, and this Unpleasant land? but, from the trench awhile Receding, turn thy faulchion keen away, That I may drink the blood, and tell thee truth. He spake; I thence receding, deep infix'd My sword bright-studded in the sheath again. The noble prophet then, approaching, drank The blood, and, satisfied, address'd me thus. Thou seek'st a pleasant voyage home again, Renown'd Ulysses! but a God will make 120 That voyage difficult; for, as I judge,