The Odyssey of Homer


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Slow rolls the car before the attending train,  
Now whirling down the heavens, the golden day  
Shot through the western clouds a dewy ray;  
The grove they reach, where, from the sacred shade,  
To Pallas thus the pensive hero pray'd:  
"
Daughter of Jove! whose arms in thunder wield  
The avenging bolt, and shake the dreadful shield;  
Forsook by thee, in vain I sought thy aid  
When booming billows closed above my bead;  
Attend, unconquer'd maid! accord my vows,  
Bid the Great hear, and pitying, heal my woes."  
This heard Minerva, but forbore to fly  
(By Neptune awed) apparent from the sky;  
Stern god! who raged with vengeance, unrestrain'd.  
Till great Ulysses hail'd his native land.  
163  


Page
161 162 163 164 165

Quick Jump
1 153 306 459 612