Aiolus, all the rushing wings of his winds shall refrain, {820}
Save only the steadfast-breathing West, till the heroes shall gain
The havens Phaeacian. Devise for them thou a return without bane.
For the crags and the tyrannous-buffeting surges make me afraid,
These only; and these shall be foiled, if thou and thy sisters aid.
In ’wildered amazement suffer them not to thrust their keel
Charybdis-ward, lest down through her jaws to destruction they reel.
Neither suffer thou them to approach unto Scylla’s hideous lair—
Ausonian Scylla the deadly, whom nightmare Hekatê bare,
Even she whom Krataiïs they call, to the Ancient of the sea—