And to the loosened reins permits the laws. High on the waves his azure car he guides; } Its axles thunder, and the sea subsides, } And the smooth ocean rolls her silent tides. } The tempests fly before their father's face, Trains of inferior gods his triumph grace, And monster whales before their master play, And choirs of Tritons crowd the watery way. The marshalled powers in equal troops divide } To right and left; the gods his better side } Inclose; and, on the worse, the Nymphs and Nereids ride. } Now smiling hope, with sweet vicissitude, Within the hero's mind his joys renewed. He calls to raise the masts, the sheets display; } The cheerful crew with diligence obey; } They scud before the wind, and sail in open sea. } A-head of all the master-pilot steers; And, as he leads, the following navy veers. The steeds of Night had travelled half the sky, The drowsy rowers on their benches lie, When the soft God of Sleep, with easy flight, Descends, and draws behind a trail of light. Thou, Palinurus, art his destined prey; To thee alone he takes his fatal way. Dire dreams to thee, and iron sleep, he bears; And, lighting on thy prow, the form of Phorbas wears. Then thus the traitor god began his tale:-- } "The winds, my friend, inspire a pleasing gale; } The ships, without thy care, securely sail. } Now steal an hour of sweet repose; and I Will take the rudder, and thy room supply." To whom the yawning pilot, half-asleep:-- "Me dost thou bid to trust the treacherous deep, The harlot-smiles of her dissembling face, And to her faith commit the Trojan race? Shall I believe the Siren South again, And, oft betrayed, not know the monster main?" He said: his fastened hands the rudder keep, And, fixed on heaven, his eyes repel invading sleep. The god was wroth, and at his temples threw A branch in Lethe dipped, and drunk with Stygian dew: The pilot, vanquished by the power divine, Soon closed his swimming eyes, and lay supine. Scarce were his limbs extended at their length, The god, insulting with superior strength, Fell heavy on him, plunged him in the sea, And, with the stern, the rudder tore away. Headlong he fell, and, struggling in the main, Cried out for helping hands, but cried in vain. The victor Dæmon mounts obscure in air, While the ship sails without the pilot's care. On Neptune's faith the floating fleet relies; } But what the man forsook, the god supplies, } And, o'er the dangerous deep, secure the navy flies; } Glides by the Sirens' cliffs, a shelfy coast, Long infamous for ships and sailors lost, And white with bones. The impetuous ocean roars, And rocks rebellow from the sounding shores.