LXV. "On fly the barks o'er ocean. Near us frown
Ceraunia's rocks, whence shortest lies the way
To Italy. And now the sun goes down,
And darkness gathers on the mountains grey.
Close by the water, in a sheltered bay,
A few as guardians of the oars we choose,
Then stretched at random on the beach we lay
Our limbs to rest, and on the toil-worn crews		577
Sleep steals in silence down, and sheds her kindly dews.
LXVI. "Nor yet had Night climbed heaven, when up from sleep
Starts Palinurus, and with listening ear
Catches the breeze. He marks the stars, that keep
Their courses, gliding through the silent sphere,
Arcturus, rainy Hyads and each Bear,
And, girt with gold, Orion. Far away
He sees the firmament all calm and clear,
And from the stern gives signal. We obey,		586
And shifting camp, set sail and tempt the doubtful way.
LXVII. "The stars were chased, and blushing rose the day.
Dimly, at distance through the misty shroud
Italia's hills and lowlands we survey,
'Italia,' first Achates shouts aloud;
'Italia,' echoes from the joyful crowd.
Then sire Anchises hastened to entwine
A massive goblet with a wreath, and vowed
Libations to the gods, and poured the wine		595
And on the lofty stern invoked the powers divine:

LXVIII. "'Great gods, whom Earth and Sea and Storms obey,
Breathe fair, and waft us smoothly o'er the main.'
Fresh blows the breeze, and broader grows the bay,
And on the cliffs is seen [Minerva's fane.]
We furl the sails, and shoreward row amain.
Eastward the harbour arches, scarce descried.
Two jutting rocks, by billows lashed in vain,
Stretch out their arms the narrow mouth to hide.		604
Far back the temple stands, and seems to shun the tide.
LXIX. "Lo, here, first omen offered to our eyes,
Four snow-white steeds are grazing on the plain.
''Tis war thou bringest us,' Anchises cries,
'Strange land! For war the mettled steed they train,
And war these threaten. Yet in time again
These beasts are wont in harness to obey,
And bear the yoke, as guided by the rein.
Peace yet is hopeful.' So our vows we pay		613
To Pallas, famed in arms, whose welcome cheered the way.
LXX. "Veiled at her shrines in Phrygian hood we stand,
And chief to Juno, mindful of the seer,
Burnt-offerings pay, as pious rites demand.
This done, the sailyards to the wind we veer,
And leave the Grecians and the land of fear.
Lo, there Tarentum's harbour and the town,
If fame be true, of Hercules, and here
Lacinium's queen and Caulon's towers are known,		622
And Scylaceum's rocks, with shattered ships bestrown.
LXXI. "Far off is seen, above the billowy mere,
Trinacrian Ætna, and the distant roar
Of ocean and the beaten rocks we hear,
And the loud burst of breakers on the shore;
High from the shallows leap the surges hoar,
And surf and sand mix eddying. 'Behold
Charybdis!' cries Anchises, ''tis the shore,
The dreaded rocks that Helenus foretold.		631
Row, comrades, for dear life, and let the oars catch hold.'

LXXII. "He spake, 'twas done; and Palinurus first
Turns the prow leftward: to the left we ply
With oars and sail, and shun the rocks accurst.
Now curls the wave, and lifts us to the sky,
Now sinks and, plunging in the gulf we lie.
Thrice roar the caverned shore-cliffs, thrice the spray
Whirls up and wets the dewy stars on high.
Thus tired we drift, as sinks the wind and day,		640
Unto the [Cyclops' shore,] all weetless of the way.