While, cumbered with my dropping clothes, I lay, The cruel nation, covetous of prey, Stained with my blood the unhospitable coast; And now, by winds and waves, my lifeless limbs are tossed: Which, O! avert, by yon etherial light, Which I have lost for this eternal night: Or, if by dearer ties you may be won, By your dead sire, and by your living son, Redeem from this reproach my wandering ghost. Or with your navy seek the Velin coast, And in a peaceful grave my corpse compose; Or, if a nearer way your mother shows, (Without whose aid, you durst not undertake This frightful passage o'er the Stygian lake,) Lend to this wretch your hand, and waft him o'er To the sweet banks of yon forbidden shore." Scarce had he said; the prophetess began:-- "What hopes delude thee, miserable man? Think'st thou, thus unintombed, to cross the floods, } To view the Furies and infernal gods, } And visit, without leave, the dark abodes? } Attend the term of long revolving years; Fate, and the dooming gods, are deaf to tears.[106] This comfort of thy dire misfortune take-- The wrath of heaven, inflicted for thy sake, With vengeance shall pursue the inhuman coast, Till they propitiate thy offended ghost, And raise a tomb, with vows and solemn prayer; And Palinurus' name the place shall bear." This calmed his cares; soothed with his future fame, And pleased to hear his propagated name. Now nearer to the Stygian lake they draw: Whom, from the shore, the surly boatman saw; Observed their passage through the shady wood, And marked their near approaches to the flood: Then thus he called aloud, inflamed with wrath:-- "Mortal, whate'er, who this forbidden path In arms presum'st to tread! I charge thee, stand, And tell thy name, and business in the land. Know, this the realm of night--the Stygian shore: My boat conveys no living bodies o'er; Nor was I pleased great Theseus once to bear, (Who forced a passage with his pointed spear,) Nor strong Alcides--men of mighty fame, And from the immortal gods their lineage came. In fetters one the barking porter tied, } And took him trembling from his sovereign's side: } Two sought by force to seize his beauteous bride." } To whom the Sibyl thus:--"Compose thy mind; Nor frauds are here contrived, nor force designed. Still may the dog the wandering troops constrain } Of airy ghosts, and vex the guilty train, } And with her grisly lord his lovely queen remain. } The Trojan chief, whose lineage is from Jove, } Much famed for arms, and more for filial love, } Is sent to seek his sire in your Elysian grove. } If neither piety, nor heaven's command, Can gain his passage to the Stygian strand, This fatal present shall prevail, at least"--