A lofty tower there stood, whose summit bore
A beacon; grateful object to the sight
Of weary mariners. Thither they mount,
And see with sighs the herd strew'd o'er the beach;
The monster ravaging with gory jaw,
And his long shaggy hairs in blood bedy'd.
Thence Peleus, stretching to the wide sea shore
His arms, to Psamathé cerulean pray'd,
To finish there her rage, and grant relief.
Unmov'd she heard Æäcides implore:
But Thetis, suppliant, from the goddess gain'd
The favor for her spouse. Uncheck'd, the wolf
The furious slaughter quits not, fierce the more
From the sweet taste of blood, till to a stone
Transform'd, as on a bull's torn neck he hung.
His form remains; and, save his color, all;
The color only shews him wolf no more:
And shews no terror he shall now inspire.
Still in this realm the angry fates deny'd
Peleus to stay; exil'd, he wander'd on,
And reach'd Magnesia: from Acastus there
Thessalian, expiation he receiv'd.
Ceÿx meantime, with anxious doubts disturb'd;
First with the prodigy, his brother's change,
Then those which follow'd; to the Clarian god
Prepar'd to go, the oracles to seek,
Which sweetly solace men's uneasy minds.
Delphos was inaccessible; the road
Phorbas prophane, with all his Phlegians barr'd.
Yet first Alcyöné, most faithful spouse!
He tells thee of his purpose. Instant seiz'd
A death-like coldness on her inmost heart:
A boxen paleness o'er her features spread;
And down her cheeks the tears in torrents roll'd.
Thrice she attempted words, but thrice her tears
Her words prevented; then her pious plaints,
Broken by interrupted sobs, she spoke.
“My dearest lord! what hapless fault of mine
“Thy soul has alter'd? Where that love for me
“Thou wont'st to shew? Canst thou now unconcern'd
“Depart, and leave Alcyöné behind?
“Glads thee this tedious journey? Am I lov'd
“Most dearly farthest absent? Yet by land
“Was all thy journey, then I should but grieve,
“Not tremble: sighs would then of fears take place.
“The sea, the dread appearance of the main,
“Me terrifies. But lately I beheld
“Torn planks bestrew the shore: and oft I've read
“On empty tombs, the names of dead inscrib'd.
“Let not fallacious confidence thy mind
“Mislead, that Æölus I call my sire;
“Who binds the furious winds in caves, and smoothes
“At will the ocean. No! when issu'd once,
“They sweep the main, no power of his can rule:
“And uncontroll'd they ravage all the land:
“Nor checks them aught on ocean. Clouds of heaven,
“They clash; and ruddy lightnings hurl along
“In fierce encounter. More their force I know,
“(For well I knew, and oft have mark'd their power,
“While yet an infant at my sire's abode,)
“The more I deem them such as should be fear'd.
“Yet dearest spouse, if thy firm-fixt resolve
“No prayers can change, and obstinate thou stand'st
“For sailing, let me also with thee go:
“Together then the buffeting we'll bear.
“Then shall I fear but what I suffer; then
“Whate'er we suffer we'll together feel:
“Together sailing o'er the boundless main.”
Her words and tears the star-born husband mov'd;
For less of love he felt not. Yet his scheme
To voyage o'er the deep he could not change;
Nor yet consent Alcyöné should share
His peril: and with soothing soft replies,
He try'd to calm her timid breast. Nor yet
Himself approv'd the arguments he try'd,
His consort to persuade consent to yield
To his departure. This at length he adds
As solace, which alone her bosom mov'd.
“All absence tedious seems; but by the fires
“My father bears, I swear, if fates permit,
“Returning, thou shalt see me, ere the moon
“Shall twice have fill'd her orb.” Hope in her breast
Thus rais'd by promise of a quick return,
Instant the vessel, from the dock drawn forth,
He bids them launch in ocean, and complete
In all her stores and tackling. This beheld
Alcyöné; and, presaging again
Woes of the future, trembled, and a flood
Of tears again gush'd forth; again she clasp'd
His neck; at length, as, wretched wife, she cry'd,—
“Farewell” she, swooning, lifeless sunk to earth.
The rowers now, while Ceÿx sought delays,
To their strong breasts the double-ranking oars
Drew back, and cleft with equal stroke the surge.
Her humid eyes she rais'd, and first beheld
Her husband standing on the crooked poop,
Waving his hand as signal; she his sign
Return'd. When farther from the land they shot,
Her straining eyes no more indulg'd to know
His features; still, while yet they could, her eyes
Pursu'd the flying vessel. This at length
Increasing distance her forbade to see;
Still she perceiv'd the floating sails, which spread
From the mast's loftiest summit. Sails at length
Were also lost in distance: then she sought
Anxious her widow'd chamber; and her limbs
Threw on the couch. The bed, the vacant space,
Renew'd her tears, reminding of her loss.
Now far from port they'd sail'd, when the strong ropes
The breeze began to strain; the rowers turn
Their oars, and lash them to the vessel's side;
Hoist to the mast's extremest height their yards;
And loose their sails to catch the coming breeze.
Scarce half, not more than half, the sea's extent
The vessel now had plough'd; and either land
Was distant far; when, as dim night approach'd,
The sea seem'd foaming white with rising waves;
And the strong East more furious 'gan to blow.
Long had the master cry'd,—“Lower down your yards,
“And close furl every sail!”—he bids; the storm
Adverse, impedes the sound; the roaring waves
Drown every voice in noise. Yet some, untold,
Haste to secure the oars; part bind the sails;
Part fortify the sides: this water laves,
Ejecting seas on seas; that lowers the yards.
While thus they toil unguided, rough the storm
Increases; from each quarter furious winds
Wage warfare, and with mounting billows join.
Trembles the ruler of the bark, and owns
His state; he knows not what he should command,
Nor what forbid; so swift the sudden storm;
So much more strong the tempest than his skill.
Men clamorous shout; cords rattle; mighty waves
Roar, on waves rushing; thunders roll through air;
In billows mounts the ocean, and appears
To meet the sky, and o'er the hanging clouds
Sprinkles its foam. Now from the lowest depths,
As yellow sands they turn, the billows shine;
Now blacker seem they than the Stygian waves;
Now flatten'd, all with spumy froth is spread.
The ship Trachinian too, each rapid change
In agitation heaves; now rais'd sublime
The deepen'd vale she views as from a ridge
So lofty: down to Acheron's low depths,
Now in the hollow of the wave she falls,
And views th' o'erhanging heaven from hell's deep gulf.
Oft bursting on her side with loud report
The billows sound; nor with less fury beat
Than the balista, or huge battering ram,
Driv'n on the tottering fort: or lions fierce,
Whose strength and rage increasing with their speed,
Rush on the armour'd breast and outstretch'd spear.
So rush'd the waves with wind-propelling power
High o'er the decks; and 'bove the rigging rose.
Now shook the wedges; open rents appear'd,
The pitchy covering gone, and wide-display'd,
A passage opens to the deadly flood.
Then from the breaking clouds fell torrent showers;
All heaven seem'd sweeping down to swell the main;
And the swol'n main, ascending to invade
Celestial regions, soak'd with floods each sail:
And ocean's briny waters mix'd with rain.
No light the firmament possess'd, and night
Frown'd blacker through the tempest. Lightning oft
Reft the thick gloom, and gave a brilliant blaze;
And while the lightnings flame the waters burn.
Now o'er the vessel's cover'd deck the waves
High tower; and as a soldier, braver far
Than all his fellows, urg'd by thirst of fame,
(The well-defended walls to scale oft try'd,)
At length his hope obtains, and singly keeps
His post, by foes on every side assail'd:
So when the furious billows raging beat
The lofty side, the tenth impetuous rears
Above the rest, and forceful rushes on;
The battery ceasing not on the spent bark,
Till o'er the wall, as of a captur'd town,
Downward it rushes. Part without invade,
And part are lodg'd within. In terror all
In trembling panic stand: not more the crowd
Which fill a city's walls, when foes without
Mine their foundations; while an entrance gain'd
Within, part rage already. Art no more
Can aid; all courage droops; as many deaths
Seem rapid rushing as the billows break.
This wails in tears his fate; that stupid stands;
This calls those blest whom funeral rites await:
One to his deity rich offerings vows,
And vainly stretching forth to heaven his arms,
The heaven he sees not, begs for aid: his friends,
Brethren and parents, fill of this the mind;
Of that his children, or whate'er he leaves.
Alcyöné, alone in Ceÿx' soul
Found place; and but Alcyöné, his lips
Nought utter'd. Her alone he wish'd to see;
Yet joy'd she far was absent. Much he long'd
To view once more his dear paternal shores;
And turn his last looks tow'rd his regal dome:
But where to turn he knows not; in a whirl
So boils the sea; and all the heaven is hid
In shade, by more than pitchy clouds produc'd:
Night doubly darken'd. Now the whirlwind's force
Shivers the mast, and tears the helm away:
And like a victor, proud to view his spoils,
Mounts an high wave, and scornfully beholds
The lower billows; thundering down it sweeps,
Impell'd by force that Athos might o'erturn,
Or Pindus, from their roots; and plunge in sea.
Down in the lowest depths, the weight and blow
Bury'd the vessel; with her most the crew
Sunk in the raging gulf: some met their fate,
Ne'er to return to air: some floated still;
To splinter'd fragments of the bark they clung.
Ceÿx himself, grasp'd only in that hand
A shatter'd plank, which once a sceptre held;
And Æölus and Phosphor' call'd in vain:
But chiefly from his lips was, as he swam,
Alcyöné resounded; that lov'd name
Remember'd constant, and repeated most.
He prays the billows may his body bear
To meet her eyes; and prays her friendly hands
His burial may perform. While thus he swims,
Alcyöné he names, whene'er the waves
To gasp for breath permit him; and beneath
The billows, tries Alcyöné to sound.
Lo! a black towering arch of waters broke
Midst of the surges; in the boiling foam
Involv'd, o'erwhelm'd he sunk. That mournful night
Was Phosphor' dark, impalpable to view:
And since stern fate to heaven his post fast bound,
He veil'd in densest clouds his grieving face.
Meantime Alcyöné her height of woe
Unknown, counts each sad night, and now with haste
The garments he should wear prepares; and now
Those to adorn herself when him she meets;
Cherishing emptiest hopes of his return.
Devoutest offerings to the heavenly powers
She bore; but incense far before the rest
On Juno's altar burn'd; and oft she pray'd
For him who was not. For his safety pray'd;
For his return; and that his love might still
Without a rival hers remain: the last
Of all her ardent prayers indulgence found.
But longer bore the goddess not to hear
Such vain petitions for the dead; these hands
Polluted, from her altars to remove,
To Iris thus she spoke:—“O, faithful maid!
“Most trusty messenger, with speed repair
“To Somnus' drowsy hall; him bid to send
“A vision form'd in lifeless Ceÿx' shape
“To tell Alcyöné her woes' extent.”
She ended: in her various-teinted robe
Attir'd, and spreading o'er the spacious heaven
Her sweeping arch, Iris the dwelling sought
The goddess order'd. Hid beneath a steep
Near the Cimmerians, in a deep dug cave,
Form'd in a hollow mountain, stands the hall
And secret dwelling of inactive sleep;
Where Phœbus rising, or in mid-day height,
Or setting-radiance, ne'er can dart his beams.
Clouds with dim darkness mingled, from the ground
Exhale, and twilight makes a doubtful day.
The watchful bird, with crested head, ne'er calls
Aurora with his song; no wakeful dog,
Nor goose more wakeful, e'er the silence breaks;
No savage beasts, no pastur'd flocks, no boughs
Shook by the breeze; no brawl of human voice
There sounds: but death-like silence reigns around.
Yet from the rock's foundation, gently flows
A stream of Lethe's water, whose dull waves
In gentle murmuring o'er the pebbles purl,
Tempting to slumber. At the cavern door
The fruitful poppy, and ten thousand plants,
From which moist night the drowsy juices drains,
Then scatters o'er the shady earth, grew thick.
Round all the house no gate was seen, which, turn'd
On the dry hinge should creak; no centry strict
The threshold to protect. But in the midst
The lofty bed of ebon form'd, was plac'd.
Black were the feathers; all the coverings black,
And stretch'd at length the god was seen; his limbs
With lassitude relax'd. Around him throng'd
In every part, vain dreams, in various forms,
In number more than what the harvest bears
Of bearded grains; the woods of verdant leaves;
Or shore of yellow sands. Here came the nymph;
Th' opposing dreams push'd sideways with her hands,
And through the sacred mansion from her robe
Scatter'd refulgent light. With pain the god,
His eyelids weigh'd with slothful torpor, rais'd;
But at each effort down they sunk again:
And on his breast his nodding chin still smote.
At length he rous'd him from his drowsy state;
And, on his elbow resting, ask'd the nymph,
For well he knew her, why she thither came.
Then she—“O Somnus! peaceful rest of all!
“Somnus! most placid of immortal powers;
“Calm of the soul; whom care for ever flies;
“Who soothest bosoms, with diurnal toil
“Fatigu'd; and renovat'st for toil again;
“Dispatch a vision to Trachinia's town,
“(By great Alcides founded,) in the form
“Its hapless monarch bore: let it display
“The lively image of her husband's wreck,
“To sad Alcyöné. This Juno bids.”—
Iris, her message thus deliver'd, turn'd:
For more the soporific mist, which rose
Around, she bore not; soon as sleep she felt
Stealing upon her limbs, abrupt she fled,
Mounting the bow by which she glided down.