Through stormy seas, weird islands, and the land
Of giants, and the gray companions smite
Their shields, and cry, What do we longer here?
Afloat! and let the great waves bear us on!
I know thou growest weary of the realm,
Thy wife, thy son, the people, and thy fame.
I too have had my longings. Am I not
Penelope, who, when Ulysses came
To Sparta, and Icarius bade her choose
Betwixt her sire and wooer, veiled her face