Οικαδε νοστησαντι παρισταται, ουδε γανυνται·
Αλλα τε Σειρηνες λιγυρῃ θελγουσιν αοιδῃ,
Ἡμενοι εν λειμωνι· πολυς τ' αμφ' οστεοφιν θις
Ανδρων πυθομενων, περι δε ῥινοι φθινυθουσιν.
They are the words of Circe to Ulysses, giving him an account of the dangers which he was to encounter.
[[673]]Next where the Sirens dwell, you plough the seas.
Their song is death, and makes destruction please.
Unblest the man, whom music makes to stray
Near the curst coast, and listen to their lay.
No more that wretch shall view the joys of life,