In haste his head out, wave with wave so met In his depression; and his garments too, Giv’n by Calypso, gave him much to do, Hind’ring his swimming; yet he left not so His drenchéd vessel, for the overthrow Of her nor him, but gat at length again, Wrastling with Neptune, hold of her; and then Sat in her bulk, insulting over death, Which, with the salt stream prest to stop his breath, He ’scap’d, and gave the sea again to give To other men. His ship so striv’d to live, Floating at random, cuff’d from wave to wave. As you have seen the North wind when he drave In autumn heaps of thorn-fed grasshoppers Hither and thither, one heap this way bears, Another that, and makes them often meet in his confus’d gales; so Ulysses’ fleet The winds hurl’d up and down; now Boreas Toss’d it to Notus, Notus gave it pass To Eurus, Eurus Zephyr made pursue The horrid tennis. This sport call’d the view Of Cadmus’ daughter, with the narrow heel, Ino Leucothea, that first did feel A mortal dame’s desires, and had a tongue, But now had th’ honour to be nam’d among The marine Godheads. She with pity saw Ulysses justled thus from flaw to flaw, And, like a cormorant in form and flight, Rose from a whirl-pool, on the ship did light, And thus bespake him: “Why is Neptune thus In thy pursuit extremely furious, Oppressing thee with such a world of ill, Ev’n to thy death? He must not serve his will, Though ’tis his study. Let me then advise As my thoughts serve; thou shalt not be unwise To leave thy weeds and ship to the commands Of these rude winds, and work out with thy hands Pass to Phæacia, where thy austere Fate Is to pursue thee with no more such hate. Take here this tablet, with this riband strung, And see it still about thy bosom hung; By whose eternal virtue never fear To suffer thus again, nor perish here. But when thou touchest with thy hand the shore, Then take it from thy neck, nor wear it more, But cast it far off from the continent, And then thy person far ashore present. Thus gave she him the tablet; and again, Turn’d to a cormorant, div’d, past sight, the main. Patient Ulysses sigh’d at this, and stuck In the conceit of such fair-spoken luck, And said: “Alas! I must suspect ev’n this, Lest any other of the Deities Add sleight to Neptune’s force, to counsel me To leave my vessel, and so far off see The shore I aim at. Not with thoughts too clear Will I obey her, but to me appear These counsels best: As long as I perceive My ship not quite dissolv’d, I will not leave The help she may afford me, but abide, And suffer all woes till the worst be tried. When she is split, I’ll swim. No miracle can, Past near and clear means, move a knowing man.” While this discourse employ’d him, Neptune rais’d A huge, a high, and horrid sea, that seiz’d Him and his ship, and toss’d them through the lake. As when the violent winds together take Heaps of dry chaff, and hurl them ev’ry way; So his long wood-stack Neptune strook astray Then did Ulysses mount on rib, perforce,