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Or urged by Jove, or her own changeful heart.
A raft was formed to cross the surging sea;
Herself supplied the stores and rich array,
And gave the gales to waft me on my way,
In seventeen days appear'd your pleasing coast,
And woody mountains half in vapours lost.
Joy touched my soul; my soul was joy'd in vain,
For angry Neptune roused the raging main;
The wild winds whistle, and the billows roar;
The splitting raft the furious tempest tore;
And storms vindictive intercept the shore.
Soon as their rage subsides, the seas I brave
With naked force, and shoot along the wave,
To reach this isle; but there my hopes were lost,
The surge impell'd me on a craggy coast.
I chose the safer sea, and chanced to find
A river's mouth impervious to the wind,
And clear of rocks. I fainted by the flood;
Then took the shelter of the neighbouring wood.
'Twas night, and, covered in the foliage deep,
Jove plunged my senses in the death of sleep.
All night I slept, oblivious of my pain:
Aurora dawned and Phoebus shined in vain,
Nor, till oblique he sloped his evening ray,
Had Somnus dried the balmy dews away.
Then female voices from the shore I heard:
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