Thou wilt not pass by Neptune unperceiv'd, Whose anger follows thee, for that thou hast Deprived his son Cyclops of his eye. At length, however, after num'rous woes Endur'd, thou may'st attain thy native isle, If thy own appetite thou wilt controul And theirs who follow thee, what time thy bark Well-built, shall at Thrinacia's shore arrive,[41] Escaped from perils of the gloomy Deep. 130 There shall ye find grazing the flocks and herds Of the all-seeing and all-hearing Sun, Which, if attentive to thy safe return, Thou leave unharm'd, though after num'rous woes, Ye may at length arrive in Ithaca. But if thou violate them, I denounce Destruction on thy ship and all thy band, And though thyself escape, late shalt thou reach Thy home and hard-bested,[42] in a strange bark, All thy companions lost; trouble beside 140 Awaits thee there, for thou shalt find within Proud suitors of thy noble wife, who waste Thy substance, and with promis'd spousal gifts Ceaseless solicit her to wed; yet well Shalt thou avenge all their injurious deeds. That once perform'd, and ev'ry suitor slain Either by stratagem, or face to face, In thy own palace, bearing, as thou go'st, A shapely oar, journey, till thou hast found A people who the sea know not, nor eat 150 Food salted; they trim galley crimson prow'd Have ne'er beheld, nor yet smooth-shaven oar, With which the vessel wing'd scuds o'er the waves. Well thou shalt know them; this shall be the sign-- When thou shalt meet a trav'ler, who shall name The oar on thy broad shoulder borne, a van,[43] There, deep infixing it within the soil, Worship the King of Ocean with a bull, A ram, and a lascivious boar, then seek Thy home again, and sacrifice at home 160 An hecatomb to the Immortal Gods, Adoring each duly, and in his course. So shalt thou die in peace a gentle death, Remote from Ocean; it shall find thee late, In soft serenity of age, the Chief Of a blest people.--I have told thee truth. He spake, to whom I answer thus return'd. Tiresias! thou, I doubt not, hast reveal'd The ordinance of heav'n. But tell me, Seer! And truly. I behold my mother's shade; 170 Silent she sits beside the blood, nor word Nor even look vouchsafes to her own son. How shall she learn, prophet, that I am her's? So I, to whom Tiresias quick replied. The course is easy. Learn it, taught by me. What shade soe'er, by leave of thee obtain'd, Shall taste the blood, that shade will tell thee truth; The rest, prohibited, will all retire. When thus the spirit of the royal Seer Had his prophetic mind reveal'd, again 180 He enter'd Pluto's gates; but I unmoved