"Go then," (she cried,) "ah go! yet think, not I,

Not Circe, but the Fates, your wish deny.

Ah hope not yet to breathe thy native air!

Far other journey first demands thy care;

To tread th' uncomfortable paths beneath,

580

And view the realms of darkness and of death.

There seek the Theban bard, ¹ depriv'd of sight;

Within, irradiate with prophetic light;

To whom Persephonè, entire and whole,

Gave to retain th' unseparated soul:

585

The rest are forms, of empty ether made;

Impassive semblance, and a flitting shade."

Struck at the word, my very heart was dead:

Pensive I sate: my tears bedew'd the bed:

To hate the light and life my soul begun,

590

And saw that all was grief beneath the sun.

Compos'd at length, the gushing tears suppress'd,

And my toss'd limbs now wearied into rest,

"How shall I tread," (I cried,) "ah, Circe! say,

The dark descent, and who shall guide the way?

595

Can living eyes behold the realms below?

What bark to waft me, and what wind to blow?"

"Thy fated road," (the magic power replied,)

"Divine Ulysses! asks no mortal guide.

Rear but the mast, the spacious sail display,

600

The northern winds shall wing thee on thy way.

Soon shalt thou reach old Ocean's utmost ends,

Where to the main the shelving shore descends: ²

The barren trees of Proserpine's black woods,

Poplars and willows trembling o'er the floods.

605

There fix thy vessel in the lonely bay,

And enter there the kingdoms void of day:

Where Phlegethon's loud torrents, rushing down,

Hiss in the flaming gulf of Acheron;

And where, slow-rolling from the Stygian bed,

610

Cocytus' lamentable waters spread:

Where the dark rock o'erhangs th' infernal lake,

And mingling streams eternal murmurs make.

First draw thy faulchion, and on every side

Trench the black earth a cubit long and wide:

615

To all the shades around libations pour,

And o'er th' ingredients strew the hallow'd flour:

New wine and milk, with honey temper'd bring,

And living water from the crystal spring.

Then the wan shades and feeble ghosts implore,

620

With promis'd offerings on thy native shore:

A barren cow, the stateliest of the isle,

And, heap'd with various wealth, a blazing pile:

These to the rest; but to the seer must bleed

A sable ram, the pride of all thy breed.

625

These solemn vows, and holy offerings, paid

To all the phantom nations of the dead,

Be next thy care the sable sheep to place

Full o'er the pit, and hellward turn their face ; ³

But from th' infernal rite thine eye withdraw,

630

And back to Ocean glance with reverent awe.

Sudden shall skim along the dusky glades

Thin airy shoals, and visionary shades.

Then give command the sacrifice to haste,

Let the flay'd victims in the flame be cast,

635

And sacred vows and mystic song applied

To grisly Pluto and his gloomy bride.

Wide o'er the pool thy faulchion wav'd around

Shall drive the spectres from forbidden ground:

The sacred draught shall all the dead forbear,

640

Till awful from the shades arise the seer.

Let him, oraculous, the end, the way,

The turns of all thy future fate display,

Thy pilgrimage to come, and remnant of thy day."

So speaking, from the ruddy orient shone

645

The morn, conspicuous on her golden throne.

The goddess with a radiant tunic dress'd

My limbs, and o'er me cast a silken vest.

Long flowing robes, of purest white, array

The nymph, that added lustre to the day:

650

A tiar wreath'd her head with many a fold;

Her waist was circled with a zone of gold.