Fear not that thou shalt feel thy sorrows light. He said, and scourging his bright steeds, arrived At Ægæ, where his glorious palace stands. But other thoughts Minerva's mind employ'd Jove's daughter; ev'ry wind binding beside, She lull'd them, and enjoin'd them all to sleep, 460 But roused swift Boreas, and the billows broke Before Ulysses, that, deliver'd safe From a dire death, the noble Chief might mix With maritime Phæacia's sons renown'd. Two nights he wander'd, and two days, the flood Tempestuous, death expecting ev'ry hour; But when Aurora, radiant-hair'd, had brought The third day to a close, then ceas'd the wind, And breathless came a calm; he, nigh at hand The shore beheld, darting acute his sight 470 Toward it, from a billow's tow'ring top. Precious as to his children seems the life Of some fond father through disease long time And pain stretch'd languid on his couch, the prey Of some vindictive Pow'r, but now, at last, By gracious heav'n to ease and health restored, So grateful to Ulysses' sight appear'd Forests and hills. Impatient with his feet To press the shore, he swam; but when within Such distance as a shout may fly, he came, 480 The thunder of the sea against the rocks Then smote his ear; for hoarse the billows roar'd On the firm land, belch'd horrible abroad, And the salt spray dimm'd all things to his view. For neither port for ships nor shelt'ring cove Was there, but the rude coast a headland bluff Presented, rocks and craggy masses huge. Then, hope and strength exhausted both, deep-groan'd The Chief, and in his noble heart complain'd. Alas! though Jove hath given me to behold, 490 Unhoped, the land again, and I have pass'd, Furrowing my way, these num'rous waves, there seems No egress from the hoary flood for me. Sharp stones hem in the waters; wild the surge Raves ev'ry where; and smooth the rocks arise; Deep also is the shore, on which my feet No standing gain, or chance of safe escape. What if some billow catch me from the Deep Emerging, and against the pointed rocks Dash me conflicting with its force in vain? 500 But should I, swimming, trace the coast in search Of sloping beach, haven or shelter'd creek, I fear lest, groaning, I be snatch'd again By stormy gusts into the fishy Deep, Or lest some monster of the flood receive Command to seize me, of the many such By the illustrious Amphitrite bred; For that the mighty Shaker of the shores Hates me implacable, too well I know. While such discourse within himself he held, 510 A huge wave heav'd him on the rugged coast, Where flay'd his flesh had been, and all his bones Broken together, but for the infused